Be like Beetee
by batmanrandomness
Summary: Dicen Bennis wasn't supposed to be the one to represent district 3 in the 71st Annual Hunger Games...that was her sister. But when a certain regretful decision changes this order, how does Dicen plan to survive without any knowledge of hunting or fighting? One answer. She doesn't. (I don't own the Hunger Games...unfortunately)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Identification

Mayla's hands fumble along the hem of my dress, as she struggles to pull it past my knees. Apparently the capitol's modesty standards are a bit lower than the districts, or at least district three's that is. Honestly, its not all that awful, and if my mom wore it like this, I don't see the point of getting all hissy about it, so what if the blue garment ends about 3 inches higher than it should? It barely shows half of my thigh. No one will care, but Mayla is stubborn, insisting everything be perfect (and appropriate) for the reaping. The funny part is, is that we spend all this time preparing for the slight chance that we get chosen, and called onto stage, when the incident of that actually happening is the most dreaded thing that could occur, highly out staging some sort of wardrobe malfunction, but, doing this seems to calm her down a bit, so I don't complain.

An hour later, my heels are clicking against the gravel as I make my way toward District three's Justice Building. I can hear the roar of conversation flowing down the alleys from the main street about a block away, and press my palm firmly against my ear in an attempt to block some of it out. I don't understand how those people can converse so casually, knowing what today is. Knowing that in less than an hour two of our teenagers will be condemned to what will most likely prove to be their deaths, But then again maybe thats why they do, I mean after all, if everyone had a heart attack before the Reapings' every year, our citizens would forever be in an utter panic. I guess in order to maintain some sort of sanity they have to pretend every things fine, its just another day, just another reaping. People die everyday in district three, whats two more to the list?

I glance down one of the alley ways that connect the back street I've taken, to the main and catch sight of a girl with golden blonde hair tied in a tight knot at the base of her neck. Identical to my own, and wonder if its Mayla, but this girls huddled with a group of other girls and Burnan is no where in site, which can only mean its not. Mayla had left early to connect up with him at Marter's Cafe, his families business, and I'd assume they'd be here by now waiting for me along the stretch, but then again I wouldn't be surprised if they'd instead chosen to spend the last few minutes before the reaping in the woods, soaking up every last minute they may have together. Of course its not their last minutes, they should know that, but they refuse to ignore that slight chance. Mayla is 17 meaning her name is entered in the bowl 6 times. Thats it, and the thing is, is she turns 18 in 3 days, 3 days...but that doesn't matter, not that nor the fact that she's 1 month away from her wedding, or that she's 6 months away from giving birth to my niece or nephew, her name is entered anyway, she's as eligible to be reaped as I am, even more so in fact, as my name is entered only 4 times being 16 and all.

I wrap my arms tightly around my shoulders, suppressing the shudder that has absolutely nothing to do with the temperature, threatening to rock through me. "Dicen! Yo, wait up!" I whip my head around, jumping slightly and the sound of Ara's voice calling me to a halt. Her and Dekus sprint down the deserted side road to catch up to me, each looking slightly disheveled in their freshly ripped reaping clothes.

"What the hell have you guys been doing?" I ask startled, if they were to appear at the capitol like that, Mayor Dabsty would die of embarrassment for our district. Hell, they may even go as far as to whip them for punishment. The capitol people already see us as a bunch of neanderthals, they don't need anymore evidence.

Dekus blushes bright red, but Ara just grins at me, her onyx black hair gleaming in the early morning light, she looks as beautiful as ever, despite her mud coated face and ripped yellow knee length dress. "Well, turns out, they sent some extra peace keepers in bout' an hour or so ago, yuh know" she said, sweeping her hand out in front of us grandly and switching into a high pitched capitol accent "for the reaping! Some of um were watching the gates when we were on our way back from the lake house, they saw us, but we were too fast for um!"

Dekus snorts, and mumbles "barely."

"Whoa, whoa," I said holding my hands out to them "you guys were at the lake house...and I wasn't invited?" Its a good thing you weren't a small voice in my head mutters, Mayla would kill you if you showed up to the reapings like that, which is true of course, it still hurts a bit to think they were sneaking off to places without me. Especially the lake house, the abandoned centuries old cabin we'd discovered outside gate limits a few years ago. We'd all gone on a walk in attempt to distract me from what I like to refer to as my own personal "dark days" right after my mom had died and come across it. Ever since that day we've pretty much considered it our 'home base.'

"Oh! Well, we were going to." Ara said defensively, but when we got to your house earlier, your dad said you and Mayla were still getting ready and we shouldn't disturb you, sorry...But hey we brought you this" She shoved her hand out at me, opening it to reveal a silver ring with a green, oversized emerald on top, my mothers ring, I'd stole it the day she died from her jewelry drawer, knowing dad would soon be selling the rest off to pay for food since we no longer had her income to support us. Its not like dad doesn't have a job, its just that he doesn't have a job that would support four children, he worked in one of the many factories on "Indo Street" its the nickname given to downtown district three, nearly eighty percent of district three's citizens work there, seeing as how we're the electronic district, most of them are industrial, with towering smoke stacks, and blackened fumes spewing out, overall its pretty nasty to look at, but its thriving and considered some of the best work conditions of all the districts, aside from districts one and two for that matter, but they hardly count, they're not 'work' conditions so much as lounge areas.

I nod mutely and take the gleaming ring from her hand, quickly closing my fist around it, so as not to become too absorbed in the thing, and shove back images of my mother that come along with it. There is a reason, after all, that I lock it up in the wooden chest in the cabin all year, only bothering to take it out for the reaping. You never know when your gonna need some kind of district representation with you. "Thanks" I murmur "I almost forgot." Ara opens her mouth as if to say something, a kind of pity in her eyes, but I cut her off, more sharply than I intended, "So are we going then?" tilting my head in the direction of the mass mob a street of them say anything, just nod in agreement, their faces reflecting the grim unease I myself have felt all week.

A few minutes later we reach the entrance to Justice Square, where a swarm of people, all sporting their finest clothes (which isn't saying much. Ever since the rebellion district 3 has been subject to blatant poverty, most of us barely able to afford bread much less fine clothing, it was pure luck my mother managed to hang onto the few dresses she'd had when she was younger, and her dad was mayor, before he'd been caught for participating in the 'black market' and was tried at the capitol, they'd said he be back in a couple of days, that was 7 years ago.) young children under the age of twelve and everyone else over the age of seventeen walked past the gates, into the massive circle that is Justice center, most of their faces grim and tired, only very few, most over the age of 50, too old to have children eligible for participating in the games were laughing and making conversation. It seems it was far easier to pretend todays just another day before you see the lines of peacekeepers standing on either side of the street, their gazes blank, unseeing, their jackets all spotless white, with a cleanly brightness rarely seen in district 3.

The rest of us, all through the ages of twelve to seventeen file toward the 'check in' tables. My eyes wandering over the crowed, searching. I frown, "Do you guys see Mayla anywhere?" I ask, feeling a sort of unease, its a quarter to noon after all, Mayla is never late...

"I'm sure she's around here somewhere." Dekus mumbles, staring at his hands distractedly, "she knows better than to be late." And of course, thats was true, I realize, Mayla is as prompt as it gets, especially when it comes to the reapings. I nod, again.

"Go on a head" I gesture towards the tables, "I'll catch up with you Ara...and here Dekus" I extend my arm out to him and he takes a tentative step toward me, his green gray eyes, weary as they are, hold a kind of worried affection. I throw an arm around his neck, and give his shoulder a quick squeeze, "I'll, see you after the...I'll see you later." In a sudden flash, he gives me a quick grin, his teeth catching the sunlight and flashing.

"May the odds be ever in your favor" At that Ara bursts into a slightly hysterical sounding fit of laughter, clutching at her sides tightly, her head bowed down, causing her dark glossy hair to tumble past her shoulders and toward the ground. Out of the corner of my eye, a very sudden shift makes me stiffen, and a peace keeper, his eyes dark, in direct contrast to his bleach white jacket, is looming over us, his glaring eyes focused on Ara. "Move on then." He says sharply, his voice clipped. A silver machine gun of some sort is strapped across his shoulder. "You'll be late."

Ara's laughter subsides as sudden as it started, and she nods reaching for my arm, Dekus already five steps ahead of us towards the table. She leans into me, her voice lowered, her eyes still trailing the line of peacekeepers, "maybe Mayla is already in there..." she mumbles, letting her words trail off as we reach the end of the line to the check-in tables, cool air blows at us from the fan on the table, a shiver rocks my frame.

"She said she'd wait" I murmur, my voice weak. I turn and give the intersection, one last scan before taking another step forward, the line moving more quickly than I'd like. Once it was my turn I stared warily at the 'sign in' books, two large leather bound books, one for the boys of district three, and one for the girls. "Name?" The women on the other side of the table asked, without looking up, her voice crisp, bored. 'Of course' I thought blandly,' she's a capitol women, these are just games to her. Just for amusement...for fun.'

"Dicen Bennis" I tell her, my voice cracking. She glances up at me from underneath her 3 inch long polka dotted eyelashes. A questioning look, "Yes, I said Dicen." She chuckles, and under her breath mumbles something about the districts and what strange names we have...

Her fingers run lightly across the tabs sticking out of the side of the girl's book, labelled with letters. "Aww, there we are." She says pleased and flips the book open to a page near the beginning of the large book. My eyes rome carefully over the list of names, searching for my own. I huff out a slightly I see Mayla's name, directly below my own, the blank box next to it, the box that should (by now) have a small red smudge, containing all the internal information they need on her, in the case of her being reaped is empty.

The women clears her throat loudly, her hand extended out to me, expectingly. "Oh, sorry" I mumble and place my pointer finger facing upwards into her palm, she pulls it closer to her and produces a small silver object in her other hand, and in a quick flash, clicks it against the top of my finger, I wince but am careful not to jerk my hand. A small dot of blood appears, I glance away, feeling vile rise in my throat at the site of the maroon liquid.

"There we are, looks like you're the very last one." she says with a wide teethy grin, and turns around in her chair bending over a small silver kit. A shot of panic slides up my spine and I take another look around the intersection. 'She has to be here. This is mandatory!' But the intersection is empty aside from the row of peacekeepers. Someone clears their throat loudly and I look up to see Ara shooting me a meaningful glance from the entrance gate, her eyes flick to the large entry book in front of me. I turn back to it, and without thinking brush the dot of blood next to the square by my name, and then with another glance at the women, still distractedly rummaging in her silver kit, poke it next to the box by Mayla's, slam the book shut, and practically sprint to the entrance. My face flushing a deep shade of red.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The Reaping

Justice Square is jam packed with people, all divided into different sections. Theres the 'safe zone' as many call it, where all the citizens not eligible for the games gather. The thing with the Reapings are that they are mandatory, whether you're eligible or not, you're required to be here, and they check too, theres no skipping out on the Reapings. If you're not at the Reapings you better be dead or damn close to it. My stomach drops at the thought. Then closest to the stage are fourteen sections, where all the 12-17 year olds are gathered split apart by gender and then age.

Ara and I hustle down the middle row, towards our section, the ceremonies haven't begun yet, but everyone is already in place, voices hushed, under the weight of the peacekeepers gaze. We reach our section just in time. Theres a loud metallic bang as someone slams the gates to the square shut and some of the younger girls yelp, already a bit jumpy from the stress of their first reaping. I take another superstitious glance at the seventeen year old girls section, but of course Mayla is not there, I knew that, you can't get in without 'checking in' but I cant help it, the weight of her absence is crushing.

'It'll be fine' I breathe out, almost silently to myself, 'She won't be chosen...they'll have no idea, her and Burnan probably lost track of time...or...' I swallow, a feeling of nausea rolling over me 'or what? Where the hell else could they be? Unless something was wrong...unless something happened...Oh! Burnan!' I glance over to the 'safe zone' and see a mob of grim faces. I keep scanning, see my father, my aunt...Burnan's parents and...Burnan. There he was staring at me, he looked like he was about to puke, his face flushed with a tint of green. 'So he's here?' He seems to read my face easily enough and gives a minuet shake to his head, as if to say'don't worry about it' but the panic in his eyes said differently. Just then a loud screeching from the microphone sounded over the loud speakers, every person snaps to attention.

Beatilce Navely giggles into her microphone "Oh, oh I am terribly sorry! Forgive for my obviously startling introduction" She giggles again, and somewhere from the back of the square a baby bursts into sobs "Oh dear!" Beatilce says holding her blue tinted hand up shielding her eyes from the sun "Well then, I guess we should start! Welcome! Everyone...to the 71st Hunger Games!" Theres a pause, as if she's waiting for some kind of cheering. Silence.

Ara leans over to me, her eyes remaining on Beatilce as she murmurs "She thinks she's in the career districts again." I snort. After a few more seconds of the dreadfully awkward silence, Beatilce's smile falters a bit. " My god, does she thinks she's a freaking unicorn now?" A small hat rests a top of Beatilce's curly fluff of light blue hair with a horn like a white cone shooting from the top, a matching metallic looking jacket covers her dyed blue arms and a startling umbrella like violet skirt shoots out from her waste, ending at her knees. As usual she's managed to live up to the Capitols's ridiculous dress attire, or more like costumes as my mother used to say.

"Well, before we go on with the drawings, we have a short message from your capitol" She nods, with an overdone smile and clicks of the stage, taking a seat next to Mayor Dabsty, who immediately ducks his head and conspicuously scoots his chair in the opposite direction, Ara slaps a hand over her mouth, suppressing a laugh.

A large screen sparks to life on the far right of the stage, and the Capitol Anthem blares out from the speakers. The oh too familiar words, coming straight from President Snow's thin mouth carry over the square..."The dark days" this..."your lovely Capitol" that..."and thus the Hunger Games were born!" Another pause for cheering, another dreadfully long silence. After the Reapings, when everyone returns home to celebrate not being picked, or goes home to draw their curtains and hide out, waiting for their friend/ family member to appear on TV after having been chosen, we get to see the Reapings from the other districts. The other tributes being chosen, and every time, I'm shocked to see the reactions of the other districts citizens. I mean, granite many of them react like District 3, with an obvious, borderline hatred for the Capitol, illuminating out of the screen. However, there are also a surprising amount of Districts who do, in all seriousness, seem genuinely excited about the games, with a genuine devotion to the Capitol. It makes me sick.

The video ends, and Beatilce walks back to center stage, grinning wildly "And now..." She announced "for the moment we have all been waiting for" She let out a childish squeal of excitement "Ahem, Gentlemen first then?" another beaming smile "excellent!" She walks to the large glass bowl on a small podium on the right side of the stage. Pin drop silence, as if the entire square is holding their breathe at once. She tilts her head back, squeezing her eyes shut as she slides her bony blue hand in the the bowl, circling it once, before suddenly plucking a small folded note out and holding it up high, as if to build some kind of excitement within the crowd. I can feel the cool silver ring still in place in my palm, which is now sweaty and hot 'not Dekus' I breathe softly, feeling a guilty selfish pang 'just please, not Dekus.' "Fry Dabsty!" She announces loudly, and I feel my entire frame stiffen 'No, no, not him either.'

"Oh jeez." Ara says, her mouth hanging open. The entire crowed bursts into, disbelieving sounds. Astonished. I along with every one else, crane my neck around the large crowd of people, looking for Fry in the 17 year old section. 'There he is' I see him through a small gap of people, his dirty blonde hair, stylishly messy as usual, his face is blank, pretty much the norm for Fry. Except that every ounce of arrogance seemed to have been wiped clean, now that is not the norm for Fry.

Suddenly a loud cry sounds from the back of the square, from the 'safe zone.' Everyone goes silent, straining to understand the words flying from Mrs. Dabsty's mouth. As upsetting and tragic it may be for a parents child to get reaped, the Capitol has made it quit apparent, that their is nothing to be done about it. You simply have to accept it, go home, and pray that by some miracle they come out of this thing, or at the very least, pray their death is fast and painless. Mrs. Fry seems to have forgotten this unspoken rule."No! That makes no sense! His name was only entered six times...SIX! Please no!" She cried, violently shoving her way through the crowd until the peace keepers cease her arms blocking her from passing to the 'Bait pit' where her son, is still frozen, his face paled to an unhealthy looking white. "Please!" She cried again.

Suddenly a loud scrape sounds from the stage, a metallic squeal from Mayor Dabsty's chair as he rises to his feet, his face the exact shade of white as his son's. "He waves a hand at Beatilce to continue and hustles down the steps towards his hysterical wife, and nearly drags her out of the square. The moment they are gone, the crowds attention, snaps back to Fry, who has finally seemed to come back to life, and was now making large determined steps towards the stage, two Peacekeepers at his side. His eyes stay straight ahead, narrowed slightly, his mouth pressed in a tight line.

"How...How is that possible?" I ask Ara in a hushed voice. She doesn't answer, just sputters a bit, her eyes wide, fixed on Fry. "I mean...he's the mayor's son."

"Right this way" Beatilce exclaims, motioning as Fry makes his way to center stage, head held high. "So, first I must ask for any volunteers, in Fry's place, hmm?" Silence. As beloved as Fry may be to District three (or at least as beloved as he believes himself to be)...he's simply not worth dying for, and we are not a career district, were too smart to be convinced by the Capitol that entering the games is a kind of honor rather than a tragedy. Fry flinches slightly, too slightly for anyone to notice if they weren't expecting it.

"Fine then" Beatilce smiles. "Now for the young lady tribute!" Her heels click as she moves over to the other glass bowl. She doesn't hesitate this time, apparently she figures Fry getting picked was enough excitement, and plunges her hand into the bowl, grabbing the first peace of paper her hand touches and pulls it out. My heart skips a beat as she slowly unfolds it, her fingers seeming to move at snail pace, Ara's breathing has literally stopped, along with just about every other girl surrounding me. "Mayla Bennis" She announces, and the ground falls out from under me.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Punishment

I don't pass out. Well, not completely at least. My vision just blears a bit, and I stumble. A hand grasps my upper arm, supporting me and I look up to see Cordesa Sparks, starring at me, a kind of pitying horror reflecting in her gaze, 'because' I remember ' she lost her sister to the games only three years ago.' But, my sister isn't here, so that won't happen to me, I think. Dazed. "Ahem!" Beatilce exclaims loudly "Mayla Bennis?" thats when the horror hits, Mayla is not here...but, I am. hell, not only am I here, but the name called (mine or not) is registered to me, to my blood. A million ideas flash though my head at once, I could run; Faint (not that that would get me far) pretend to be Mayla...take her place (I may not have a choice on the one) or I could do the only realistic option.

"I volunteer" I say, my voice sounding dull and weak, even to me, but Beatilce hears it, as do the peacekeepers lining the sections. I begin to walk forward, and realize Ara's hand is still gripping my arm so tightly it cuts of my circulation. "Ara" I whisper harshly and look back at her, her dark eyes are wide, horrified, as if she'd just witnessed someone shooting me through the temple. "Ara" I say again, and this time her hand drops, her face going blank. I turn sharply, sucking in a thick breathe and head to the middle aisle, where two red haired peacekeepers are waiting.

"Excellent, Excellent!" Beatilce continues, clapping her hands together quickly, practically jumping up and down on the balls of her feet. "Come, come dear!" I make my way up the steep steps to the stage, the peacekeepers following close behind. I don't look at the audience, but I can feel their gaze as heavily as the hand urging me up the stairs. My footsteps, once on the stage, feel like bricks, one foot forward, then the next...And then I'm standing in the middle of the stage, telling Beatilce my name, staring out over the grim looking audience. I search the crowd, and my eyes land on Burnan who looks utterly stunned, he opens his mouth as if to say something and then snaps it shut quickly and breaks his gaze from mine.

"Well, isn't this an exciting day hmmm?" Beatilce asks, this time not bothering to wait for any kind of audience reaction. "The mayors son and a volunteer!" I'd nearly forgotten Fry standing opposite the stage to me, I glance at him to see him staring at me, his mouth pulled in a lazy smirk, he leans to the side slightly, giving off a calm appearance, bored even, but I know better.

"Well, give a round of applause for your District Three Tributes!" Someone claps from the back of the audience, but it dies quickly. "Right then, well why don't you two shake hands...go on now, shake." I turn and take a tentative step towards him, my hands tremble, he meets me half way and with a nod grips my palm, giving it a stiff shake before pulling back, sweeping over my eyes with his own.

Two peacekeepers step towards us then, ushering us to the large iron door at the back of the stage as Beatilce begins reading the rules of the games. I hesitate, I'd never been in the justice building before, but my mom had, in fact, she used to work there.

I step through the doorway, Fry at my heels. He practically lives in this building, since his dads office was just a few floors up, but I get the feeling he suddenly doesn't feel so comfortable in the long silver hallway, lined with pictures of District Three's industrial representations, all things I've seen plenty of times, yet they'd never looked so grand in person as they're portrayed here.

We're lead into separate rooms, directly across from each other, the second I enter mine, the door slams closed behind me. I turn with s start. "Hello?" I call at the door "Whats going on? Hello?" No one answers. I slump and walk over to the over size plush couch at the far end of the small room, made to feel even smaller with the deep violet paint covering the walls and ceiling, the only piece of furniture occupying it. 'So this is what its gonna be like now' I think 'Being led into strange rooms, only to wait there for hours without being told anything.'

Tears sting my eyes, but I can't cry, not yet. After another twenty minutes of sitting in silence, the door cracks open and I bolt up, my dad pokes his head into the room, eyes wary. "Dad!" I throw myself against him, burying my face in his shoulder, he smells like smoke and gasoline, but right now its the must wonderful comforting smell in the world.

"Dicen" he breathes, and his voice cracks. The door opens again, Bolt and Tact bust into the room, both of their identical faces streaked with tears. They open their mouths to say something but dad cuts them off quickly. "Shhhh" he says and ushers for them to come closer. They throw their arms around me, burying their faces in my neck, their bodies shaking with chocked sobs. Their only ten, but they are definitely tall for their age, the top of their heads about noes level compared to me. I pull back slightly to study them, my little brothers who you would never guess are related to me. They both have dark shocks of hair that hang down into their equally dark eyes, with deeply tanned skin. As opposed to my light goldish blonde hair that hangs down to my waste, pale skin and green blue eyes, not to mention that I'm a few inches shorter than average height and they're at least a head taller than most boys in their class.

I realize tears have begun to flood down my cheeks and curse silently, I better clean up before I'm back out in front of the cameras, I can't give them the satisfaction, I think, determined. "Dicen" Bolt says carefully, as if he talks to fast he thinks his voice will break. "You're...I mean, you can win right? You're coming back?" My dad makes a choked noise and spins around to face the wall. I stare at Bolt.

"I...I'll try Bolt, I promise, I'll try." They both shoot me steady looks before nodding, and I think back to a few years before, they'd been so young when we lost mom, too young to really understand what was happening. I wonder if they get it now. "Wheres Mayla?" I ask suddenly, without fully giving myself permission to. Dad opens his mouth "Mayla..." But he's cut off quickly and harshly by a peacekeepers throwing open the door.

"Time!" One says urgently and takes hold of dads arm.

"No, no! Just one more minute. Wait!" Dad exclaims as the peacekeeper hauls him out, herding Bolt and Tact out as he does. "Dicen! You can win alright? You're smart! Just..." But his next words are too muffled by the sound of the door slamming shut to understand, and I stand mystified, staring at the iron door.

Another minute passes before the door opens again and Ara lunges at me, her face contorted with pain and I realize she's crying. I'd never seen Ara cry before. "Dicen you idiot! What were you thinking? You're so stupid Dicen, you're so freaking stupid!" Her voice is full with anger but her face is too hurt for me to truly believe it.

"I..." I begin but she cuts me off. "You signed in as Mayla, didn't you? Didn't you?"

"Ara!"someone snaps, and I look up to see Dekus standing in front of the door, his eyes are rimmed in red but other than that his features are perfectly controlled. "This isn't gonna change anything" She doesn't look at him, but I can tell his words take immediate effect.

"I...I know, I do" Her voice cracks "I'm sorry Dicen" I'd never heard her apologize before either. Dekus moves forward and then both their arms are wrapped around me. "You're gonna win" Ara says "And then you're gonna get the victor's house, and I'm definitely moving in." I let out a noise that was meant to be a snort but came out more as a sob, Dekus's arms tighten.

"Take care of Mayla...you know with her baby and the wedding and everything, okay? And my brothers...I mean...you know what I mean" They both pull back to look at me, and I can see the protests on their mouths, but they seem to think better of it and nod.

"Course Dice" Dekus mumbles. "don't worry about anything." At that moment the door swings open and I throw myself at Dekus one last time.

"I love you guys!" I call desperately as they're shoved out the door. "Tell my family I love them too!"

"Alright Dice! We love you..." The door slams shut, and I crumple to the ground.

I'm not sure how long it takes for the door to open again, but it feels like centuries of sitting crumpled on the ground, my head between my knees. In fact, I don't even notice it does until Burnan brushes my arm, and I look up to see him kneeling next to me, his eyes pained. "Where's Mayla?" I ask in a flat voice. Burnan flinches.

"She's alright Dicen. Thats...thats all you need to know, okay? I'm so sorry..." I bolt to my feet and he blinks, clearly taken aback and rises as well. "I'm going into the Games for her...and you won't tell me? Burnan...I'm going to die!" I didn't realize I was going to say it until it came out, and now I can't take it back. "I'm going to die." My voice became matter of fact and I could see the horror increase in Burnan's face.

"No Dicen, no. You have as good a chance as any..."

"Burnan! No, I don't, and we both know that. I can't fight...can't hunt. I'm gonna die within the first few days and we both know it."I throw my hands up, exasperated "It would be pure luck if I managed to make it past the bloodbath even!"

Burnan's hands clamp down on my arms, his face inches from mine and his eyes intensely boring into me. "No Dicen, you're gonna make it out of this, you know why?" He doesn't wait for a reply "Because Mayla would die if she knew that this happened because of her, and because you're family can't handle another loss. Your dad couldn't take it...they need you, so you better damn well come back."

I was shaking my head rigorously, tears streaming down my face, But I didn't have time to respond, the door opened again, and Burnan pulled me against him, whispering against my ear as he did "I'll see you soon" and then he was being torn away.

"Take care of Mayla!" The door slams.

There are no more visitors. Minutes later we're in a car, I'm seated in between a grim looking Fry and a cheery as ever Beatilce, whose animatedly telling us about how we will simply 'Love love LOVE!' The creme pie as she holds a small palm sized mirror up and examines her face, making strange expressions. Fry rolls his eyes. We're one of the few districts where cars are common, seeing as how we produce them. Its not like they are family owned like in the Capitol, they are mainly used for transporting material used in factories, but I've ridden in them a couple of times. None like this, the interior was covered in violet silk, with black velvet carpets and seats. Its gorgeous, and disgusting.

I stare out the window, catching people's eye as they make their way down the sidewalks, most on their way to work. Many Districts get work off on the day of the Reapings, but not District Three. Electronics are simply too important to the Capitol to put a hold on. The people look back at me steadily, but with a kind of pity, it hurts.

We arrive at the train station minutes later. Fry mumbles "finally" as we climb out of the car, but I can't help but feel like the car ride wasn't long enough. 'My final moments in District Three' I think 'the last time I'll ever see home. No, definitely too fast.'

The train is waiting for us at the gate, the only train that ever uses this particular railway. It goes straight to the Capitol and back to transport the tributes every year. Thats it.

"Shit" Fry breathes, next to me. I look up to see him staring at the train wide eyed, I follow his gaze and suck in a breathe. I'd never see the train before, not up close that is. Its dark silver with long black stripes down the side and well, _huge_ it looks like it could easily be a mile long, though thats probably a bit of an exaggeration. Then again, none of that is what is so intimidating about it. I guess its, it's sheer presence. The looming dark mass that would surely be carrying me to my evident death. 'Yea' I realize glumly 'thats probably it.'

"Well, well, don't _you two_ look starstruck!" Beatilce chirps, appearing next to us seemingly out of thin air, Fry and I jump in surprise which only makes her giggle. "We ready then?" Fry and I glance at each other and for the first time a detect a bit of wariness in his gaze.

"Sure" He says lazily "Why not?" tears sting my eyes, and I silently scold myself. I can cry tonight, in bed, but not here. I will _not _cry here. I follow Fry onto the train, without a glance back.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Glistening City

I hadn't expected the train interior to feel quite so...grand, to say the least. Honestly I'm not sure what I'd expected. Black walls? Chains? Torture devices? It is a capitol train after all, designed specifically to transport Tributes. But no, of course thats not what the interior is like, in fact, in theory it lives up perfectly to my expectations of Capitol standards, what with its long spacey rooms, lined with deep blue velvet chairs and polished dark wood tables. Everything about it seems to be...glistening.

I look at Fry (his ashen skin flushed), who seems transfixed. Not with the trains decor' but with the long table of food lining the right wall. Trays and trays, with all different kinds of it...cake, (a rare finding in District Three) elaborate looking crackers with a strange yellow substance settled perfectly center on the top...small sandwiches (We can barely afford bread, much less stuff to put in between it)

"Looks good, doesn't it?" a strangely familiar voice says from the large chair about two feet to my right, I almost jump. I'd been so absorbed in my strange surroundings I hadn't even noticed Skader Telavis leaning lazily in some sort of oversize recliner. He'd been only 15 when he'd won the 67th Annual Hunger Games. Since he was the latest victor to come from District Three, he is now one of our mentors. District Three isn't exactly renown for winning, its usually the career Districts 1,2, and 4 that become victorious (considering they're mostly volunteers who train for these games since infancy, hardly fair if you ask me) but even not considering the careers, Districts Three is known for our IQ's, not our ability to fight, hunt, or lift heavy objects. In other words, we spend our childhoods training to assemble televisions and computers which isn't exactly manual labor, therefore when we're thrown into the arena, with nothing but our unusually expansive knowledge of TB1000 wring and DBC sets, it wouldn't be too big of a surprise when someone from lets say District Seven (known for their specialties in working with hatchets, axes, and saws for cutting lumber) takes our head off without breaking a sweat. So our wins are few and far between, not to say we're the farthest behind. No, that title would probably go to the most outlying districts, 11 and 12.

"You guys mine as well dive in" He murmurs, "while Beatilce is looking for Rassa, otherwise" he rolls his eyes dramatically "she'll scold you for acting like" air quotes "cavemen." Fry doesn't hesitate, just smirks and practically attacks the table. I can hardly blame him, I've never seen this much food at once...and I mean never, food is precious back home, you savor the little bits you get, and make it last as long as possible. You never know when the next batch is coming, which is exactly why I don't follow Fry's lead, and ignore the rumbling in my stomach.

"None for you then Blondie? Fine, can't blame you." Skader winks, and I drop my gaze.

"Thats ridiculous..." I say, I can hear the anger and frustration in my voice, the heat rising to my cheeks "Do they realize people are starving in the Districts? Dying?"

It was a rhetorical question but Skader answers anyway, voice light, cheery even. "Sure they do! But here's the punchline blondie...they don't care. Honestly, why would they? They have everything they need this way...everything they want" Another aggravating wink. I'd never met Skader before, he's spent most of his time at the Capitol ever since his win, not that thats the norm for victors, but the Capitol people love Skader, so apparently they insisted he just live there most of the time, but before the games he'd lived only a couple streets over from me so I'd seen him around just never talked to him, no reason to. I remember his reaping, it was weird, I was only 11 at the time, still nestled in the safe zone, praying Mayla's name didn't get called. When Skader's had, I'd cried, I couldn't help it, I mean...I knew him. I guess it was the first time the games had felt real to me, before that, all they were was an annoying ceremony I'd had to get all dressed up for in annoying outfits and sit through in the baking sun for hours every year, for seemingly no purpose, and then he got called, and I realized they did effect me.

I don't comment on Skader's response, just grind my teeth and flop down into a chair near the window, drawing my knees up to my chest. I wonder if Beatilce would get mad about me tracking mud from the bottom of my boots onto the chair, but I quickly realize I don't care either way. I watch Fry jam food into his mouth, and adamantly ignore Skader's gaze on me.

After about five minutes of this I turn to him "Yes?" I demand, surprised by the venom in my voice. I've never spoke like that to someone, it just isn't in my nature to be rude in any way, 'but I'm not exactly feeling like myself today' I think.

Skader shakes his head unfazed, his lips pressed in a thin white line. "You're Mayla's sister, thats why you volunteered" His voice is surprisingly gentle. I blink.

"You...you know my sister?"

"knew" He corrects with a nod. "I mean obviously I haven't seen her in a while, but I vaguely remember her from school. She was smart, I don't think we ever talked."

"Oh." Is my only response, before turning to the window, the train had started to move and I hadn't even noticed, it made no noise, and practically glided along the railway, trees pass in a long endless blur.

"So why didn't they show her? On screen I mean, when she was called"

I stiffen "What do you mean...why would they? I volunteered"

He raises his eyebrows "Well, yea but they didn't show her at all, they usually show people the second they're called, and then if someone volunteers they switch to them...but I didn't see her..."

"How should I know?" My voice turns defensive, I make an effort to soften it, sound more indifferent "Maybe I volunteered fast enough where they didn't have time to find her..." I turn back to the window.

"Hmmm" Skader says, with a tone of doubt in his voice that makes a chill run down my spine, what if they knew she wasn't there?

I brush off the thought quickly, its not going to make any kind of difference anyway, hell If she gets punished I'm never gonna know, I mine as well just choose to believe the best... At that moment Beatilce bursts into the room, followed by a tall slender women with a shock of long black hair, matching pits for eyes, high sharp cheek bones, and a pinched expression that reminds me of a bird, that combined with her hair and eyes immediately make me think of a raven. Rassa Delport, The 57th Hunger Games victor, and our second mentor.

Beatilce just smiles at us "Enjoying the food as much as the previous tributes I see, Fry." Fry smirks, clearly unfazed by the jab. "Well, I see you've met Skader Telavis then? Good, he'll be one of your mentors, and this" She gestures to Rassa "Is Rassa Delport, as you probably already know, your' second mentor, usually how this works is, you will start off training together, I mean Both Skader and Rassa will mentor both of you, and then later when we get closer to the games you will split up and Skader will mentor you" She nods towards Fry " and Rassa will mentor you" She nods to me.

"Whoa whoa, is their some sort of gender division rule I haven't been informed of?" Skader asks, pushing himself to his feet. I blink, I hadn't realized how tall he was.

"Well...this is what we've always done Skader, I mean, technically there is no rule" Beatilce responds, taken aback.

Skader smiles "Good, then I call dibs on blondie" He jerks his thumb in my direction. "You can have pretty boy" He says, turning to Rassa,who just raises her pin straight eyebrows, clearly amused.

"Why?" I blurt out, without really thinking, not sure where he's going with this, does he figure since I'm probably gonna die right away, he won't have to do much work when it come to sponsors? Especially considering I won't have any...everyone glances at me.

" Cause I know you, well...kind of, we're from the same part of town" he winks and I have a sudden urge to punch him in the nose. "and because I'm assuming you're smart, where as pretty boy" another thumb jab in Fry's direction "I'm a bit more concerned about...no offense of course Dapsty" he says, looking back at him.

Fry just looks amused, "None taken" I guess thats the good thing about living in Fry's haze of arrogance, nothing negative seems to get through.

A little while later, Beatilce shows Fry and me to our rooms, telling us to change and get cleaned up for dinner, or in her words "Go spiffy ourselves up for dining." I swear, every word that comes out of that women's violet mouth makes me gag.

My room, is no disappointment compared to the rest of the train, not that I'm sure why I thought it would be, the Capitol definitely has its standards on living conditions. I would love to see them try to trade places with District Three for a day.

For one thing the bed is huge, at least the size of the room Mayla and I share...or shared, I guess, back at home with an intricately designed blanket, that Beatilce had called a 'duvet' earlier, whatever that means. I brush my finger tips along the length of the bed as I walk over to the closet doors, its silk, and I can't resist the urge to collapse onto it, spreading my arms and legs out wide. 'Its so soft' I think, the bed Mayla and I share is not only small and cramped but hard as a rock, with loose springs sticking up through the scratchy cloth. I'd never complained of course, thats just the norm for District Three, but now that I'm laying on what feels like some kinda of oversize cloud I don't know how I ever got any sleep.

With some reluctance I push myself off the bed and make my way over to the closet, my footsteps clicking against the polished tile flooring. I frown when the door opens, revealing rows and rows of colorful fabric, not so much clothes as...well, costumes. I file through the fabric, looking for anything that comes even close to resembling some article of clothing, most of them are dresses...I've never liked dresses, the only time I've ever worn them are on days of the Reapings, therefore I'm against them by association. Finally, I find a shirt that covers most of my shoulder and chest area and throw it on over some kind of blue 'skirt.'

I turn to the mirror and flinch. I look half dead, my cheeks flushed white with red ringed eyes from crying earlier, my lips a strange shade somewhere between red and blue. I suppose from chewing on them so much, a nervous habit I'd had for as long as I can remember. The shirt is tight and hugs my deteriorating stomach, District Three has had a lack of shipments lately and we've barely been getting any food, I've been giving most of mine to Bolt and Tack, they're growing after all. 'not that that applies to me anymore anyway' I think bitterly, either way I can just make out the lines of my ribs though the thin blue fabric.

A knock at the door makes me jump and I spin away from my reflection. "Yes?" Theres a pause. "Can I come in?" Its Fry's voice. "Ugh, yea sure, I guess." He pushes open the door, and gives me an exaggerated once over. "Its a good thing its almost time to eat...you look like hell."

"Gee...thanks" He shrugs, as if to say, 'well, its true' "You know not all of us are the Mayors children...we don't get food three times a day unless we catch it ourselves."

"Which you clearly must not do, besides I mean...its illegal" I snort and mutter under my breathe while I turn back to the closet.

"So, can I help you with something then, or are you just here to insult me?" Silence, I turn back to him and shoot a sharp look "well?"

"I'm not here to insult you" He says finally, carefully. Each word slow and measured. "Have we ever spoke before Dicen? You look familiar..." I cut him off "My mom used to work in your dad's office, but no...I don't think we've ever talked to each other."

He nods "Used to?" "She died" I say before he can ask, making my voice matter of fact. He winces. "Oh."

"Anything else then?" I'm losing the venom in my voice, he looks too tired to really be mad at. "Aren't you going to change? You know, get all spiffy?" I ask, imitating Beatilce's squeaky voice, a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, he looks oddly genuine compared to how I usually see him, with his signature lazy smirk plastered on his strangely perfect face.

"Like I could look any spiffier than I already do? Hell, like anyone could look any spiffier than I do." He winks "All I could do at this point is make myself look cleaner." I don't know why, he wasn't really trying to be funny, but I break into sudden fits of laughter, and then both of us are laughing, hugging our stomachs and bending forward, eyes squeezed shut. I guess we're both going a bit crazy under the circumstances.

Someone clears their throat suddenly and we straighten up, our laughter subsiding, Rassa stands in the doorway, eyebrows raised "You two ready to eat?"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Rassa warns us not to eat too fast at dinner, apparently it can make us sick since were not used to the 'richness' of the food. "Trust me" she says steadily ( as is everything she says) "I'm telling you this from personal experience." Fry and I couldn't argue that.

We walk into the dining room to see Skader settled in an end chair, leaning back lazily with his feet propped up on the table, ignoring Beatilce's dagger like glare. "Ahem." She clears her throat dramatically and he glances up, bored. "Can you please?"

"Please...?" another pointed glare. "Get your feet off the mahogany!"He blinks and wiggles his feet, his boots make squeaky noises against the polished wood.

"So" Fry begins, sliding into the chair next to me "Someone gonna tell us how to win?" Rassa looks slightly startled, Skader's face however becomes grim and he slides his feet back down to the floor, which seems to please Beatilce.

"Its hardly that simple, Fry" Rassa responds, her voice gentle but theirs a kind of hardness in her eyes thats unsettling.

"Well, we have to start some where...do we not?" I ask, raising my eyebrows. Both of their faces turn to me. "Thats true" Skader says finally. "Alright, what can you guys do?"

"In terms of...?" Fry begins. "Nothing" I cut him off quickly, and turn to look at him as I say, "neither of us can do anything...unless you mean put together a TV set in under five minutes, cause then I got you." Skader's expression is amused until he seems to realize I'm serious and winces. "So, neither of you know how to fight? Hunt?"

"Nope" Fry says, popping the p sound on 'nope.' Rassa slaps a palm to her forehead. Skader looks contemplative, suddenly he turns to me, his eyes bore into mine "Blondie, tell me something." I stiffen, startled by his urgency "Huh?" In a flash, he gathers three Capitol engraved knives from around the table and shoves them in front of me. I blink. Then he pushes three crystal wine glasses at me, setting them in a triangle. "How would you make the knives balance?" He asks, and I stare at him. "What?"

"Make the knives balance off each other and the glasses" His voice is patient, but his face is still urgent. "Uhm" I glance down at the arrangement he's set up, and quickly realize what he means. "Okay" I pick up a knife and lay it across one cup, obviously the distance between the cups is longer than the knife... I purse my lips and grab another, then turn each knife so the handle is resting on the cups, each tip pointing to the middle of the circle, I twist them and grab the third knife, doing the same with the last cup, shifting them over, I balance the knives off of one another, picturing the weaving of a basket, 'this one over...this one under...this one over again...' They balance making a tiny circle with the tips of the knife, I smile, satisfied. I glance up and Skader, "like this?"

"Perfect" Rassa Says, I look over to see her staring at the setup, impressed, it wasn't that difficult. Skader is grinning, while Beatilce stares at the knives, clearly confused "How did you...?"

"Thats impressive" Fry says with a nod "But can we get back to how to survive the games?" Skader shakes his head "thats what were doing Dapsty, we're figuring out what you guys can do, now we just need to find your...talent." Fry sputters a laugh.

"Well no offense Dicen" He says, turning to me "But I hope my talents a bit more useful than balancing knives off of cups"

"Whoa whoa Fry, don't bash my talent okay? You're just jealous cause you know that when we're all fighting each other by having to balance knives on cups you won't stand a cha..." Rassa cuts me off "We're not saying that that is you're talent Dicen, we're saying that you're quick, smart. Not many can people can figure out how to do that, your brain has to work in a special way, you'd be surprised about how handy that can be in the arena."

"You good at memorization?" Skader asks, staring at his empty plate longingly.

"Um, decently" I say, "Good" He responds "See I told you she was smart." Rassa rolls her eyes.

A man enters the room then, holding two large silver trays "Finally!" Beatilce exclaims ".starved." Rassa stares at her, annoyed. "Like you even know what starved means" She mumbles.

No one says much after that except for Beatilce but she hardly counts, Fry and I are too busy stuffing our faces and both Rassa and Skader seem deep in thought, so the silence is filled only by the sound of forks scraping against the porcelain plates and Beatilce's mindless chatter about how great we're gonna look after the 'make-over' people get to us. I do my best to tune her out, I don't want to think of the upcoming events, in fact I don't want to think about anything but the food in front of me, and how utterly amazing it tastes. Fry seems to agree, even though I'm sure he's had most of it before, being the Mayors son he gets dinner's like this anytime someone from the Capitol comes to the District, which isn't often...but it happens. I on the other hand have never had this much food at once, and I'm far past the stage of feeling full (I don't even remember the last time I've felt full), but I can't stop, it all just tastes so good, and I can't help but shake the feeling that I won't get to eat like this again...even though I know I will, I'm going to the Capitol after all.

After dinner Rassa excuses her self to her room, and Beatilce herds the rest of us into the 'living room' where a large TV is hung on the wall with a long plush couch placed facing it. Fry throws himself at it, claiming he feels sick, 'I can relate' I think, wishing I'd taken Rassa's advice and slowed down on the food. I settle into it and Skader plops down beside me. He lowers his voice and leans his head down toward me "You ready for this Blondie?" He breathes and I wonder if he's really starting to think thats my name. I shrug, indifferently, even though at that minute my stomach drops and I feel a large bump in my throat when I attempt to swallow.

The TV sparks to life, quickly without any kind of static noise that I've grown so accustomed to back home, only the best for the Capitol. Ceasar Flickerman appears in all his green haired glory, with a large plastic looking smile plastered on his face, he's welcoming everyone to the '71st Annual Hunger Games' theirs the loud sound of cheering. He's introducing the escort for District One, with its glistening buildings. As usual both tributes are volunteers, much to the original chosen's relief. The boy is tall, lean with redish hair and pale skin, toned muscles line his arms, and theirs a glaring spark in his eyes that sends a chill down my spine, he's far to enthusiastic about volunteering if you ask me. The girl is tall as well, with cat like eyes that tilt up at the sides, and short brown hair that is cropped straight at her shoulders, she gives the boy an icy smile that he returns easily enough. District One cheers for them, and then its onto District Two. Once again, the Tributes end up being volunteers (surprise surprise for the career Districts) These two are a bit more...harsh looking, both have striking black hair, a shade darker than Rassa's, with blazing blue eyes, that are narrowed slightly, and I'm supposed to be fighting them? The food flips around in my stomach, and I realize my breathing has picked up, to near hyperventilation.

And then its Fry getting called. Back to District Three, I look at him from the corner of my eye as he watches his hysterical mom being dragged out of Justice Square, his face blank. "Mayla Bennis!" Beatilce's voice sounds from the TV, I realize my hands are shaking. The camera's are on me, even before I say, "I volunteer" How did they know I was gonna...Then it switches angles, and I see a tall boy shoving his way through the crowd, Dekus. How had I not noticed him, a small choking sound escapes my throat and I realize I've leaned forward. He's saying something on the screen but his words are drown out by Ceasar Flickerman's voice-over talking about young tragic love...'oh jeez' I think. A Peacekeeper ceases Dekus's arm before he can make it too far and slams the butt of his gun into Dekus's gut, he doubles over, I gasp. How had I not known this was happening?

I realize Fry, Skader, and Beatilce are all staring at me, and stand up abruptly without even realizing I was going to, "I'm tired. Night." I spin around and begin walking back to my room. "You don't wanna see the other tributes?"Beatilce asks. I don't answer, just jog back to my room in attempt to hide the tears flowing from my eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Eventually I fall asleep, though I'm not sure quite how long it takes, I'm assuming a few hours. I wake up to quick light knocking on the door. 'Mayla, waking me up for school' I think groggily 'I don't want to go.' I bury my head deeper in the pillow, shielding out the bright light streaming in from the window,' "Ahem! Dicen, time to get up, its going to be a very very exciting day!" I bolt out of bad, practically tripping over my skirt that had somehow worked its way down and around my ankles. Beatilce wraps on the door again, as the previous days events come rushing back in a quick blur. My cheeks are still sticky from tears, my eyes are probably swollen. I brush my sleeve against my face. "Alright, Beatilce! Thank you," I try to make my voice slightly cheery, not sure why, but I fail anyway. I sound like I'm still crying. My throat burns from the choked sobs.

I wash my hair in the oversize bathroom extension they call a shower, and come out smelling strangely like roses. Then go on another search for actual clothes. I'm not as lucky this time, I can't find any shirts that seem to actually be shirt like, so I settle for a short white dress that bunches in at my waist, held tight with a belt. At least this one doesn't show off my ribs as much. I don't bother with my hair, just let it hang down in ringlets to my waist, Mayla usually scolds me for that, saying its sloppy and impractical to not tie it back, but Mayla isn't here.

There are a million pairs of shoes covering the shelves of the closet but I bypass them, 'they can get me to wear the clothes' I think, mainly because they seem to have taken mine...'but no way am I putting those metal traps on my feet' In fact...it seems like all the clothes and shoes in the closet seem to have a common theme...'they're already trying to get me to wear electronic looking clothes' I realize with a huff, 'to represent my district.'

I walk out to the dining room, apparently I'm not the last one to get up. Skader and Fry seem to be absent. I don't greet Beatilce or Rassa, just keep my eyes trained on the ground as I slide into a seat. "So, we should be arriving in about an hour or so...isn't that exciting Dicen?" Beatilce chirps, a wide grin on her powder white face. "You'll simply love the Capitol, its beautiful! Oh, um not to say District Three isn't of course" She stammers "its just that...Oh Fry!" She says seeming relieved. Fry nods in her direction, but his eyes are on me.

"Sleep well?" Its more of a drawl than a question, laced with sarcasm, clearly not meant to be answered. "Excuse me?" I ask, narrowing my eyes.

He shrugs "Just wanted to know how you slept" His eyes widen innocently. "Well, then I slept great, you?" My voice is hard, challenging. 'What the hell had gotten into him?' His own eyes narrow in return and he opens his mouth... "Whoa, haven't felt this much tension, since my own games" Skader interrupts brightly, stretching his arms over his head and shooting Fry and me a wink as he saunters into the room and collapses onto the chair next to me. "Where's the food?" Fry is still glaring at me, my stomach churns.

"Actually I'm not really hungry" I announce, and push off from the table. "Thats right" Fry mumbles as I start towards my room "You're plenty used to not eating breakfast, well see you later!" More cheery sarcasm, I stiffen momentarily, but decide to ignore him, telling myself its not worth it. I reach my door and push it open, more violently than originally planned, and sink onto the bed 'I'm going to be fighting Fry, only one of us can survive...even though its likely neither of us will' I picture the harsh looking tributes from District 2, more tears build up in my eyes 'Jesus, does it ever stop? You'd think I would have run out of water by now...' but it just keeps coming.

Suddenly theres a knock at the door, I'm about ready to yell at Beatilce to go away when Skader slides into the room, his cheeriness from earlier wiped clean, now he just looks tired. "Hey Blondie" I sit up and as conspicuously as possible wipe my eyes with my palm, brushing away the few tears that had managed to spill over. "You ready for the Capitol?" He lowers himself onto the end of my bed. I pull my knees up to make room.

"Can't wait, obviously." I murmur and he shoots me a crooked smile. 'Damn, how had I missed how tired, he looked before?' I wonder. He has dark circles around his eyes that make the green seem extra vibrant, his ash blonde hair is messed up, not even stylishly so like usual...just plain messed up, and his shoulders are slouched as if he has a 300lb boulder leaning against him. So very opposite from the Skader I see on TV all the time, or even the one I saw yesterday... "So whats up with you?" I know I probably shouldn't ask, but I can't help myself, its just so strange, he's not the one going into the arena in a few weeks.

He shakes his head, ignoring my question "So what was that with Fry? It was strange...you two seemed fine yesterday" I shrug, attempting to sound indifferent when I say, "No clue, maybe he's gone too long without a drink, I've heard that makes him a bit...testy" Skader smirks, "Naw, thats not it. He practically downed a bottle of...something last night after you left, vodka maybe? I don't know." I smile, at least somethings right in the world.

"What about the other tributes?" I ask reluctantly, not sure I want to know...but knowing I have to. He tilts his head back, looking thoughtful, "The guy from District Four concerns me a bit, he volunteered, his partner not so much...District Seven maybe." "Volunteers?" I ask. "No, its just that they're both big as houses." I nod, remembering last year, when a District Seven tribute threw an axe about 50 feet, launching it deep into the girl from District Twelve's skull, like it was nothing...no effort at all, and shudder. Skader is still contemplating the Reapings "District Eleven girl, maybe...she was a volunteer, though I'm pretty sure it was her cousin that was picked, so that may be why. You'll see them soon enough, don't worry about it until then, everyone has their weaknesses." He nods, clearly determined to believe that.

"Yea" I mutter under my breathe "Some more than others of course." His eyes flit over me, he shakes his head. "Dicen..." Rassa appears in the doorway, she cocks an eyebrow as she assesses our positions on the bed and I realize we've inevertibly been leaning towards each other, our faces only a foot or so apart, we both jerk back, which seems to make her only more suspicious.

"We can see the City outline from the window, thought you'd want to check it out, but, you guys seem...busy" She bites her lip "Never mind." We both scramble to our feet awkwardly, its not like anything was actually going on...but its weird having Rassa think so...

When we walk into the living room, Fry's nose is pressed up to the glass, his eyes wide "Damn" He breathes "Dicen, come see this" I'm surprised when he says it, I was expecting more of the attitude from breakfast, but he seems too absorbed in the view outside the window to put any effort into it. I walk up to the glass next to him, and gasp...it was glistening. High buildings towered in the distance. District Three has buildings that tall...but District Three's buildings don't have windows and the walls are black from all the smoke of the factories, not to mention the giant chunks of concrete that have been broken off of them, leaving large craters in the walls. The walls of the buildings up ahead seem to be made of glass, the sun casting reflections off of them at every angle, large perfectly groomed trees line the train tracks with colorful puffs of delicate looking flowers spiraling around the base. It seems like the setting of a fairytale.

We keep staring as the buildings grow larger, getting closer and closer to us. Its so utterly stunning I nearly forget about the horror that lies in it. "See, I told you, you two would love it, didn't I? Didn't I Rassa?" Beatlice asks, determined to get the appreciation she deserves. A noise rumbles from up ahead, 'The train tracks" I assume, and then quickly realize its not the train tracks but voices, cheering voices screaming out from the platform ahead. Fry and I crane our necks, trying to spot the people before us and see a large mob of color...and fluff, people's clothes. Soon they're on the side of the train, looking in through the window back at us, they go insane. Hands banging against the windows, people screaming out 'District Three!' every individual voice blending together to create a giant rumble.

I back away from the window, stunned, and immediately bang my lower back against the table, but barely notice. 'I need to get away from this...I need to go home!' Panic floods my thoughts 'I shouldn't be here.' "Dicen?" Skader asks.

I start towards my room 'Away...Away...I just need to get away!' "Dicen" He says again and his hand clamps down on my wrist. We're in the hallway now, at least its away from the cheering... He pushes his hands against my shoulders, and pins me back against the wall, I automatically attempt to jerk out of his grasp, but he's too strong "Hey! Dicen" He's trying to catch my eyes, to get me to listen but I can't help it. I can't think straight, not with the cheering vibrating through the walls..."Jesus Dicen, look at me!" One of his hands moves to my face, titling my head back towards him, urging me to look straight. Finally, I meet his gaze. "Breathe" He murmurs quieting his voice so its barely above a whisper "Everything's fine, I swear...you're just going to the Stylists...which is stupid but its nothing, then a quick chariot ride and back to the new rooms, okay? You still have weeks before the Arena...its fine." He runs his had down my cheek, brushing back my hair "Shhh" he breathes and I feel my pulse begin slowing returning to normal.

"I'm sorry" I drop my gaze to my feet, staring at the rows of laces lining the boots up to my knees. "Don't be" He smiles "I freaked out way worse than that..." he drops his hands, only to intwine his fingers with mine, giving a comforting squeeze.

Beatilce, shows up then, telling us its time to leave which of course...Is very exciting.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The next hour is a blur. First, Fry and I are being herded off of the train and stuffed into a long car with a black interior and tinted windows, and then we're at a building, a very large glass building with thousands of people surrounding it, all of whom are chanting loudly though their words are too jumbled to make out. Its all extremely magnificent, and utterly terrifying. Somehow, Beatilce manages to get us through the crowd without being grabbed or torn to pieces and we enter the building where a small group of Capitol people are waiting, all sporting matching white lab coats. Beatilce calls them our stylist teams. Three of them lead me to an elevator, babbling about my hair and eyes. "I am so jealous of your eyes! What shade is that exactly?"

"Ahem, Avil she's from the districts, they don't color their eyes there, those must be natural!" I duck my head, attempting to fold in on myself. I picture the turtle Dekus and I saw one time while by the lake in the woods, I'd gone to pick it up and immediately it receded into its painted shell, blocking everything else out. I wish I could be a turtle.

Fifteen flights up the doors slide open and I realize I've been clenching my fists so hard blood draws from my palms where my nails had dug in. I suck in a breathe and hastily brush them against my dress, where it folds so as not to show up on the white. Not that it would matter anyway, the second we walk out the doors I'm led to a small triangular compartment that seems to be one of about 24 in a large circular room, they ask me to remove my clothes, and when I hesitate uncomfortably, one of them; the short one with yellow hair and matching eyes, begins tugging at my straps, pulling them off my shoulders while another Women undoes the belt from around my waist. My dress drops to the ground and I automatically wrap my arms around my shoulders, feeling silly and immature, but I can't help it. I'm not used to feeling so exposed. They tell me to lay down on the table. I comply and squeeze my eyes shut, another lame attempt at blocking out the situation...

I tell myself to fall asleep, but of course, thats impossible, what with the loud babbling and the poking and prodding at my limbs. It feels like hours of laying flat on the table while the three fuss over my hair and skin. Finally, one of them tells me I can sit up, and hands me a robe which I practically dive into the second I'm off the table.

" Here, Taris should be up any minute now, just wait in here..." The tall green skinned guy with black tattoos like vines winding their way down his arms and across his cheek leads me to a door across from the compartment and smiles. "See you soon! Oh and congratulations!" I resist the urge to slap him and walk into the small barren room, the walls are gold, but other than that the room is relatively simple, even for district standards. The only piece of furniture occupying the space is a long stretcher like table covered in white cloth at the far end of the room, pressed against the wall.

My eyes wander as I make my way over and perch myself on the table. I trace the edges of the walls with my gaze and realize with slight surprise that the gold on the wall is not plain but forms a silhouette in the undertones. It is too slight at first to make out but I slowly am able to piece together the shapes into the familiar pattern of the District 3 emblem; A large factory (that according to my father was based off the automobile building) towers over three pinion wheels, meant to represent industry.

I let out an uneven, harsh sounding breathe as I feel a weight build in my chest. 'I want to go home...' I flop down onto my back and try to brush off the sense of longing, instead deciding to focus on the black looping pattern across the ceiling that I hadn't before noticed, I suppose this room isn't quite as simple as I thought...The door swings open and I jump, bolting upright. "Oh my, I apologize, I didn't mean to scare you..."

"You didn't" I interrupt hastily "you startled me, theirs a difference" The man smiles and cocks a thin white eyebrow. "Oh, well in that case, I didn't mean to startle you." I ignore his teasing tone and narrow my eyes.

"So who are you then?" He's quite clearly Capitol, what with his unnatural looking white hair and silvery blue eyes, he's far too young to be going gray anyway...I'd guess about 30. However, for being Capitol he's dressed rather bland in a plain white shirt and matching pants. "I'm Taris, your stylist."

"I thought those people out their were my stylists..." I say, casting a pointed look toward the door. He smiles patiently "They're my team, but I am the head stylist. I'm the one that will design all your' clothing from now on." 'Costumes' I correct mentally, but nod "They just do the prep work mostly." "Fine, well...I'm Dicen" I say awkwardly.

"Oh yes yes, I'm aware. You volunteered." "Only for my sister...she's pregnant."

"Well, it was assumed it was your sister, though it must be such an honor right? Getting to represent your' District?" I don't answer. "Well, lets get to work then." He gestures for me to stand so I push myself off the table.

He measures my arms and legs with a long yellow tape measure, and then moves to my waist, he clicks his tongue "My, my, the District people are always so thin. People here would kill to know your guy's secret..." 'Poverty, starvation...' I bite my tongue to keep from saying it aloud. After he gets all my measurements he takes a step back "well, you I can definitely work with! We'll have all the Capitol boys drooling. And" He says with a conspiratory glance "All the sponsors, lined up to help save you and your innocent blue eyes." I blink, uncomfortably. I don't want to think about sponsors, though I guess I should...

Taris reaches over and snatches a small black remote off the table, 'A remote that belongs to a T40 set' I think idly, and watch as he clicks on the power button, pointing it towards the empty wall. Suddenly the wall shifts, and a small block in the middle pushes forward and then slides up, revealing a large black screen built straight into the wall. Taris presses another button and the screen sparks to life, just as smoothly as the one on the train... "Alright, so heres what we're gonna do." An outline of a person appears on the screen, spinning in circles. "You are from District Three, and usually the outfit for the chariot ride is representative of the District..." "Right" I nod "So, Fry and I are factories" "Exactly, but factories...mine as well be electronics so we were thinking that instead of real clothes, we'd do holographic clothing" I stare at him. "So...you don't want us to wear clothes?" I ask slowly "I'm sorry, but I don't feel comfortable..." Taris laughs.

"No, no" He blurts out between fits "You'll still be wearing clothes of course, we're just going to have projections being shot out of them, like this here" He gestures to the screen and I look up to see a large translucent hologram being shot out from different spots on the black unitard type thing the silhouette is wearing. The pictures change from flashing pixels to a close up of the District Three emblem. "Oh" I say, sounding slightly transfixed "Thats...cool"

"I'm glad you think so" Taris smiles "I had this idea last year, I was a stylist for District Two, but this year I specifically requested District Three so I could try it. Everyone will love it I'm sure!" I bite my lip.

Hours later, Fry and I are standing side by side in the corner of a relatively empty room, both of our stylists teams are gathered in front of us in a circle with their heads bowed together. I shift restlessly in the stretchy yet uncomfortably tight silver unitard Taris had forced upon me, Fry leans lazily against the wall, bordely examining his fingernails. He's been made up in practically the same attire, yet his stylist clearly decided to be a bit more kind and made his in a sturdier more loosely fitting material. I glare at him enviously.

Finally, he glances over at me, raising his eyebrows in mock surprise "Something wrong Dice?" I feel a pang in my stomach at the weight of Dekus's nickname for me, but ignore it.

"Why do you get to wear actual clothes while I'm stuck in..." I trail off with a pouty frown, not really sure what you would call this thing "this? It hardly seems fair."

He gives me an exaggerated once over, feigning surprise as if he hadn't noticed, and with a grin asks "What do you mean? Seems like a public service to me" He winks, I grind my teeth, and cross my arms over my chest self consciously. Fry laughs. Apparently his moodiness from breakfast has passed completely.

I stare at my feet until Frari, Fry's stylist walks up to us. Her pure white hair, identical to Taris's, balanced artfully on top of her head, her face is contorted with so much surgery she hardly looks like a human anymore and more along the lines of those small dolls all the families with a bit more money would purchase for their children when we were younger. "Oh, you two look dazzling! Now are you ready for the final touch?" She squeals and claps her hands excitedly, reminding me of Beatilce when I volunteered at the Reapings... "She pulls out a small remote, and aims it at the pack hanging loosely from Fry's hip"Step forward now, so everyone can see." She gestures excitedly. Fry raises his eyebrows, looking mildly amused and takes a step forward and away from the wall, I step back. "Alright, ready everyone?" She casts a glance around the room "Taris?" She asks looking for approval, he nods looking delighted. "Phew, alright..3...2...1!" She clicks the button and a four rays of light shoot out from Fry's shoulder, mid-chest, waist and knee all morphing together to create a large translucent screen around him, flashing colorful images of District Three, encircling him.

I stare at it wide eyed as the small group breaks into applause. "Jesus!" Fry says his lips are parted as he takes in the screen from the inside, looking transfixed he slowly raises his hand and hesitantly pokes a finger at the inside of the screen, jerking back immediately though the image remains undisturbed. "Okay, I thought the point was to represent District Three, sorry but I have never seen anything like this back home..." Taris cuts him off.

"Well, sure you have! District Three is responsible for assembling all of our holographic TV sets...surely you have them there" Fry stares at him blankly as I shake my head, watching the colors of the screen casting luminous glows on Fry's face despite the brightness of the room. 'We make a lot of things for the Capitol that we never get to use ourselves...its all for the Capitol after all.'

"Alright, well we should turn them off until its time to go, to conserve battery power" Frari says, sounding disappointed. "But, its clearly a great success! All eyes will be on you two I'm sure."

"Yea, the glowing bubbles of District Three" Fry mumbles under his breathe "My parents will be so proud."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Taris tugs at my hair violently. Winding it around his fingers and yanking back until eventually its pulled up into flowing swirls cascading around my face. I fight the urge to brush one piece in particular off my cheek and focus my energy on picking at the string I'd managed to rip loose from my sleeve, the perfection of the fabric was beginning to become irritating.

"Okay, you are just about..." One last hard yank "Done!" Taris smiles, looking pleased at his work "Now, open your eyes wide" He rummages around in his bag and emerges with a small sleek looking black pencil.

I shrink back, raising a hand to shield my face. "Excuse me? What are you planning on doing with that exactly?"

Taris rolls his eyes dramatically, as if I'm the difficult one. "Its just a bit of eyeliner. I'm not going to blind you Dicen, where's the trust here?"

"Probably back in the changing room with my old clothes" I grumble under my breathe, he shoots me a sharp look.

"I heard that."

"Good."

"The outfit looks amazing, it may not be your style, but thats not the point. The point is its the sponsors style, understand? Excellent." He says quickly, not giving me a chance to argue, not that I would honestly...he is right. Its all for the sponsor's sake, we need to make good impressions.

"Ow! Hey, no touching, We've talked about this..." I turn my head at Fry's voice, startled, just as Taris brushes the lid of my eye with the pencil. I swear.

"Ouch! You said you wouldn't blind me!"

"So they're doing it to you too?"Fry asks, shooting an accusing glare at the stylist team from across the room.

Taris throws his hands up in exasperation "Well, if you would hold still I wouldn't! Jeesh, District two was so much more compliant!"

Fry stares at him a moment, a speculative look on his made up face. I can't help but feel a bit envious of Fry, sure he now has dark silver slashes across his cheeks and his eyelids have been darkened as well, but he still looks like him. I on the other hand am barely recognizable in the large mirror hanging from the wall.

For one, my eyes are blazing with a dark ring of black 'mascara' around them. My eyelashes must be five lbs by now, the black has apparently brought out a bunch of black specs in the blue that before seemed to be none existent (according to Taris) that make them look as if they're almost glistening. The next is the ring of silver lining my lips that somehow manages to make it look as if I'm permanently puckering. I suppose I get how this might be attractive to the Capitol people, theres almost a mocking kind of perfection in the slight flowing curves Taris has shaped my features to. However, like the 'outfit' its defiantly not my style, nor is it likely anyone from the Districts style. But I can't complain too much, not after seeing Taris's first attempt at preparing my face, he'd made everything cut, sharp, and intense, I'd felt a jolt of terror just looking at myself, but after a second of admiring the job he'd decided against it, claiming I would be much more appealing if he were to "highlight the already blatant innocence of myself, appeal to the Protective side of the sponsors" and wiped the entire mess clean.

Taris huffs out a resigned breathe "Okay, no eyeliner. You win, but you are getting eyeshadow, so close um up." I make a face and squeeze my eyes shut, wondering where the hell they got all these 'makeup' ideas. Eyeliner, mascara, eyeshadow, blush, bronzer (which in our case is far more silver) lipstick, lipgloss, foundation and...I think thats it. Maybe, being a stylist is a bit more difficult than I've previously suspected, having to remember all that, let alone remember how to use it and for what sounds as complex as assembling a 450 set...

"Perfect, and very good, you were almost completely still" I smile grimly. Someone shifts to the left of my chair and I look up to see Frari and Fry making there way over to the doors at the end of the sloped room, Fry is staring at me almost questioningly as if I can explain to him whats going to happen now that we're all prepped and ready. Even I have to admit that despite the annoyingly fake and slightly Capitol looking attire, Fry still looks good, still Fry at least, with the ever bored smirk and annoyingly perfect features that Ara and every other girl I know will rattle on and on about, its just that now he looks more intense, and despite the Capitol makeup and costume he doesn't look 'Capitol.' Thank goodness... I'm not sure I could handle that.

Taris gestures for me to stand and leads me over to the doors after Frari and Fry, the teams call after us, but I don't hear them, not past the loud nervous buzzing in my ears that seems to carry down my arms and to my fingertips, making my steps still and mechanical. More people join us when we reach the hall and hustle us down the marble quarters, chattering to each other about the camera arrangements. I gulp and picture my family, at home nestled safely in our small rickety 2 bedroom house. Dad and Mayla are always wrecks during the Chariot ride, I can only imagine what they'd be like now... 'If Mayla is even their to worry about it' an aggravating voice nags at me from the back of my mind. I brush off the thought, I can't afford to think about that, not now. Hell, not ever, its not gonna do any good. If I'm going to die, then I'm going to do it knowing that its for a reason, knowing that my family is safe, thats all that matters.

We reach two large chamber like doors at the end of the hallway that fly open without having to be pushed, and are herded into the room which is basically a giant horse stable. People rush around the space, some wearing working clothes and others (in groups of two) are young, around my age, dressed in colorful and clearly elaborate costumes, all with a different theme. The tributes.

Fry comes to a sudden stop in front of me causing me to nearly slam into his back. He turns "Dicen." He reaches out his hand and takes hold of my wrist, his mouth opens to say something.

"This way District Three" A man cuts in he doesn't spare us a glance as he begins speed walking to the end of the long row of horse drawn chariots, leading us away from Frari and Taris who wave at us wistfully pointing to the pack on our hips one last time, as if they haven't explained how to turn them on enough. I keep my head bowed. We hustle after the man, Frys's hand is still tight around my wrist, pulling me forward. I should be looking around, scouting the other tributes since I'd only seen one and two's Reapings, but I find myself keeping my eyes low as we pass them, only feet away. Coal scuffs on the boots of district 12, Denim jean overalls and brown fitted boots on District 11, golden jeweled riding boots for District 10...Fry takes a sudden step back so he's directly beside me, blocking my view of the other District's tributes.

"They're staring at us, aren't they?" I ask, keeping my head bowed and looking up and him through my blackened eyelashes.

He smirks "Are they? I guess I'm so used to people staring I haven't noticed..." I almost laugh, mostly because he's only half joking. I glance up, wondering how close we are to are to the chariots and immediately regret it. The District 4 tributes are staring at us, with a weird kind of Hunger in their eyes, the boy, a tall lanky kid with hawklike eyes. Or at least he looks lanky at first... with closer inspection I realize his arms are lined with toned muscle. I chill shoots down my spine. The girl stands up on her toes then and leans toward the boy, her eyes on me as she whispers, the boy snorts and murmurs something back that makes them both crack into laughter. I glance up at Fry, expecting to see some sort of anger or fear, but all that shows is his usual mask of amused boredom.

He turns his gaze to me "You look like a dear trapped in headlights."

I make a face "How would you know, you don't have a car...have you ever even seen a deer...?"

He rolls his eyes "funny, its an expression... but really though stop doing that thing with your eyes, your practically plastering a target to your face."

"What thing with my eyes? I'm not doing anything..." He shakes his head.

"That deer in headlights thing. Don't get me wrong, I mean its cute and I'm sure the guys here are just dying to comfort you, but to them..." He jerks his head to the line of tributes "you look like a moving target."

"Well, I don't mean to do that, but hey, as long as we're giving each other advice, you should lose the smirk. Your face is pissing me off just looking at it, I can only imagine how they feel about you." I say, mimicking his pointed nod at the tributes. The words and gesture had slipped out before I'd even considered them. "I'm...not really sure where that came from...sorry."

He stares at me, one eyebrow cocked. "You confus..."

"Time to load up District Three" A man in a white coat says, singing the doors to the chariot open. I look ahead as Fry climbs in. No one stands by the two Chariots in front of ours, I suppose District one and two have already loaded. I'm momentarily relieved I don't have to see them...not yet at least, for some reason I feel as though the longer I go without having to see them in person, the longer I can go convincing myself I may actually get to see my seventeenth birthday.

Fry sticks his head out of the chariot and raises his eyebrows "Coming Bennis? We don't have all day..." I blink and shake out my arms in an attempt to clear my muddled thoughts. I climb into the chariot, the interior is much like the transfer car we road from the Justice Building to the train in, all velvet and marble...was it only yesterday? It feels like weeks since the Reapings...since I last got to see the District...my family. The doors slam closed and I sink back into the seat next to Fry, wrapping my arms tightly around my shoulders. We're jerked forward suddenly, the sound of hooves hitting concrete picks up till eventually its matching the too-quick beating of my heart. A quick clapping noise sounds as the top of the chariot unfolds and lifts back revealing open air and a large black tunnel.

"You two are going to want to stand up now" A man wearing a white top hat and matching jacket drawls from the front seat where he grips the horses rains. We stand.

Its dark enough in the tunnel that I can barely make out the outline of District Two's chariot about twenty feet ahead of us. I turn to Fry "Should we turn them on now?"

"What?" He looks startled "Oh, right...yea probably" He pulls out the small black remote from his front pocket and aims it at the small box hanging from my waist "Ready?"

I shrug "I suppose..." he clicks the button and the four lights lining the front of the suit flicker, becoming brighter and brighter until the beams morph together, creating the large holographic screen.

"Damn." Fry breathes "It looks even weirder from the outside." Just then a loud roaring erupts from up ahead, I look forward and barely make out the District One tributes Emerging out of the tunnel, their silhouettes wave leisurely to the invisible crowd.

"Okay, turn yours on." My hands are sweating and I blandly note the brightness of the screen encircling me, District Twelve can most likely make it out perfectly from the end of the line...

"Oh mhm" Fry shakes his head and blinks, as if to clear it. He presses the button and his sparks to life as well. The roaring is getting louder and the light down the tunnel gets bigger...I suck in sharp breathe. "Smile" Fry breathes as were emerge in front of the crowd.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I do try to smile. Try to make myself even the least bit likable...that is how you get sponsors after all, but it doesn't happen. My cheeks tighten as if someone is physically pulling the corners of my mouth down, I feel my eyes go wide as I take in the rows and rows of people, colorful morphed people. I gasp slightly. Too many people...I've seen this walk before...those banners, the podium at the end of the strip that seems to be about a mile long...stretching...but I haven't realized. TV doesn't capture everything... It doesn't get the weight of their stares, the booming echo of the their hands clapping together, the earsplitting cry of their cheers...too many freaking people.

Fry's laughter breaks my dizzy state, I glance up at him. He's looks the same as before, leaning back slightly...lazily, his mouth corked up at the corner, his eyes appraising the crowd with nothing but his normal shred of amusement. None of it bothers him...I should have known. "Well, looks like we found your talent" I grumble, dropping my gaze to my shaky palms resting lightly on the black leather padding on the rail of the chariot. He looks down at me.

"Did we?" he flashes me a smile, his sarcasm only showing in his eyes in a clear avoidance of the crowd.

I shake my head "You seem to be enjoying this."

Another beaming grin "I guess thats as much of a talent as balancing knives off of cups."

"I'm thinking more so actually."

They're shouting District Three, cheering for us as we pass, throwing red pedaled roses at us. Apparently Taris's costume did provoke some attention. Fry casually raises his palm, not so much a wave but a signal of acknowledgment. Its arrogant and annoying, I fight the urge to elbow him in his side...but they love it. People scream out, somehow even louder than before. Fry laughs again.

We get closer to the podium and I notice for the first time the large screen hanging above it. 'That must be new...' Its showing a close up image of who I recognize to be the District One tributes, though its hard to tell with the glittering gems encasing their faces, the only dead give away is the girls cat eyes and the boys blood red hair. They're smiling, waving...eating the scene up, but of course they volunteered. They've been preparing for this since infancy...The screen shifts then, and I feel my shoulders tighten. A Golden helmet rests over the boys black hair, covering it, but the girl's drapes down to her mid back, straightened to pin point. They don't smile. In fact, they barely seem aware of the cheers booming from the stands, their eyes are straight ahead...narrowed. "Holy shit" I breathe, Fry doesn't hear.

It doesn't take long for the image to change again, and then its my face reflected on the screen for everyone to see... I look paralyzed, not sick like I feel just...still, statue like. Fry just looks bored...frozen and bored, what great representations of my District. I look down when we disappear, not wanting to see the other tributes...not yet.

The chariot comes to a very sudden halt but I manage to catch myself on the rail before I stumble. The rest file in making two long rows of six all aiming towards the podium, I keep my eyes carefully trained ahead, away from the other music shuts off...I had't even realized it'd been playing until it was gone...A loud static noise sounds throughout the stands and the cheering stops, I look up.

President Snow stands at the podium, his lips are pulled into a smile but his eyes are hard...intense, wearing his usual white suit with the small red rose pinned above his heart. He stares at us, his gaze traveling the lines of tributes. Theirs a wicked glint in his eyes that makes vile rise to my throat...he enjoys this. Enjoys the fact that 23 of us won't make it another two months. Enjoys that its because of him...he's proud. Every year I watch him on TV and wonder how a man so small and frail looking could provoke such terror in the eyes of the tributes...I get it now.

He makes his welcoming speech. Telling us what an honor it is to have us here...recognizing that it must be an honor for us to be here. I look at Fry, and for the first time their is no mocking humor on his face. He's mad, disgusted. The camera makes its round on the screen, converging on our faces as we gaze up at the paper white-haired President. The careers look pleased, 90% of the other districts look sick, scared...and then theirs Fry and me. I expect my face to match the fear and horror of the tributes from District Ten they'd just shown, but when our faces become clear, I don't see fear, I see anger. My eyes blaze blue, the black circle exaggerating it, my jaw is set and my lips are pressed tight...Fry doesn't look much different.

Seventy one years ago when the Rebellion began, District Three was one of the first to be attacked by the Capitol, as we were one of the first to isolate the Capitols rain. It didn't take long for them to regain control and implement our punishment. Sending our children out to kill each other in the first Hunger Games, but we put up a fight, holding our resentment for the Capitol strong, waiting for the next rebellion. Even today, after Seventy one years, every person I know from the district refers to the dark days as 'The first Rebellion.' Sure that it won't be the last... my fists clench, feeling a strong wave of pride for the Technology District.

"Welcome Districts...to the SeventyFirst Annual Hunger Games!" President Snow raises his hand, and the crowd explodes, raising in volume until we can barely hear the Capitol Anthem blaring out of the stands. The chariot jerks to life and parades us once more around the circle and disappears into the Training Center.

We're surrounded instantly, the stylist teams grabbing at our arms, grinning widely. "You two looked great! Everyone noticed the outfits! I mean...you were glowing!"

Some one shoves through the bunch. "Yea yea, everyone did awesome, it was completely magical and all that..." Skader drawls, rolling his eyes. "Now move it, we're going back to the rooms." He grabs my wrist and pulls me towards a door, nodding at Fry to follow, but he doesn't notice. He's too busy surveying the room, his eyes moving from tribute to tribute, assessing. Skader clears his throat "Fry, lets move it, you'll have plenty of time for this during training tomorrow." The blood drains from my face. Training.

We leave into a hallway where Rassa stands waiting, her arms crossed over her chest and her lips pursed thoughtfully, Beatilce chatters at her from the wall.

"Oh!" Beatilce claps her hands "You two look great! Though Dicen, we should talk about your' facial expressions you seemed a bit...stiff, it was probably just nerves, nothing that can't be worked on!" She gestures for us to follow her up the hallway. "Your outfit was by far a stand out, definitely the most unique, though I did love the diamonds on District One, did you not? So beautiful. Oh, and District Two was quite impressive as well, those helmets looked like they weigh a ton!" She keeps it up all the way down the hall and too the elevator, while the rest of us block her out in a grave silence. "Well, now its time to eat and then you should get some rest...training starts super early tomorrow. Oh, and your guy's uniforms for it are hanging in your closets, I checked just to make sure, last year we had a bit of a problem with the girl's...it was too big and we had to get it tailored so she was nearly late...luckily I managed to get it right before training began" She sighs and takes a breathe "Don't you simply hate it when that kind of thing happens? I know I..."

Skader makes an impatient noise "Thats fascinating Beatilce." His voice is dry. She frowns, looking offended.

Each District and their 'entourage' get their own floor every year that they live in until the Arena. Ours is the third obviously, as it goes by District Number. I knew the rooms would be nice, it is the Capitol, but I hadn't realized the extent...we enter into a large open room, with a long luxurious couch centered around another large television strung up firmly on the wall, long windows makes up an entire side of the room showing of the lit up city from all different angles. I have a hard time believing we're only on the third floor, as the view is well above 90% of the buildings outside.

"I don't get it." I say, after a minute or two of staring out the window in awe.

Everyone turns to glance at me "Get what?" Rassa raises a sharp eyebrow.

"Why they do this...I mean, they brought us here to die...why don't they just lock us in a chamber or something? We're gonna end up int he Arena either way..."

Skader laughs, but its humorless and dry "I don't know, but I would assume its the same reason they have a victor at all." Fry and I turn to stare at him.

"A victor?"

"Well, after the rebellion the Games were invented as a punishment, right? So really, why don't they just kill off 24 District kids?"

"The games are a tradition Skader!" Beatilce interrupts, looking appalled. "They bring the Districts together...give us something to root for!" Skader grinds his teeth while Rassa stares at her in horror.

"You can't honestly still think that Beatilce? You've been an escort for years...surely you must have realized by now..."

"All I've realized thus far is that the Districts, especially District Three...are extremely ungrateful for the Capitol's rain!"

Rassa's eyes blaze and she takes a step towards Beatilce, who staggers back.

"Hey! Woah." Skader sweeps into Rassa's path. "As I was saying" He raises an eyebrow at her, she seems to deflate slightly "Well, actually...I don't really need to say it now" He jerks a thumb over his shoulder at a shaky looking Beatilce "Bubble head just proved my point. They don't want to look like a bunch of barbaric murderers, they want to look like the Games are for a purpose other than torture of the Districts, and this" He sweeps his hand around the large room "helps them prove their point."

"Well, whatever the reason...I think its great, all hail the Capitol" I glance over to see Fry lounging back in a reclining chair, his legs propped up on the side table as he pops a strange looking candy into his mouth.

"Ha, you don't mean that kid." Rassa tells him, with little humor in her voice.

Fry just shrugs "I mean, think about it. All our families are back in District Three right now starving. Granted, they may live a bit longer than us" He gestures to me "...but we're not the ones suffering right now...and both you two made it through the games! Now you have the best lives of all. I say they're just giving us opportunities..."

"You don't actually believe that." I blurt out with a sinking feeling in my chest. "From the look on your face when Snow was talking you definitely don't believe that..."

"Just because I think Snow is a major asshole doesn't mean I don't..."

The doors swing open and the stylist teams stumble in, all smiles. "Oh darn" Taris drones dramatically, his gaze sweeping over me "I was hoping the batteries wouldn't have died just yet, I wanted to try something...but oh well, they made it through the chariot rides and I do suppose that is all that matters! Well, shall' we head to your room Dicen, and we can get you out of that leotard? It is a three-man job..." The three people that assisted me earlier scurry up to me, their faces still contorted in beaming grins.

"Do hurry, supper should be ready by now." Beatilce calls at us as they lead me out of the room.

My 'room' turns out to be about double the size of my entire house back in the District, with three different sections and a large bathroom that you enter through a grand archway. Taris and the clones help me shimmy out of the black leotard. This time I don't even blush as I stand before them in only my underwear...theirs been so much exposure tonight I'm nearly numb to it. They leave, telling me to take a shower and then come out for dinner, so I do.

The shower itself is quite literally twice the size of Mayla and I's shared bed. A panel of silver buttons sits on the wall, giving different options, steamer, dryer, shampooer, conditioner, warmer, cooler...I stare at it dumbfounded. I'm from District Three, I should be able to figure this out, but in the end I give in and pound my fingers across random buttons until warmish water comes out. The moment I step out a gust of air hits my back, completely drying me off from head to toe, followed by two laser beams that shift around my hair until it falls down my back in silky swirls, utterly clear of the sticky spray Taris had emptied on my head in order to keep his design in place earlier.

After I get dressed in the attire Taris has apparently picked out for me I walk out to the main room, where Beatilce and Frari are chatting animatedly while leaning against the window.

continued...


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Dinner goes by in a blur. Skader, Fry, Rassa, and I eat in silence, gazing at our plates warily as if they were holding knives to our faces. Beatilce, Frari, Taris and the clones, however, still haven't come down from their high of the chariot rides and are squealing to one another about the costume designs for the rest of the week, training included. Apparently the've agreed on a way to make it known Fry and I are together...but not together, every costume I will be wearing from here to the arena will have the main focus of black where as Fry's will be white, "like a yin and yang thing" Taris informs us in between bites.

After dinner I begin heading back to my room but am stopped short by Skader's voice pulling Fry and I back to the balcony where him and Rassa stand waiting, their heads bowed together as they talk in hushed voices.

"What can we do for yuh?" Fry chirps, and swings himself up onto the rail of the balcony fence. I shudder just looking at him there...so close to the edge, which is nearly 3 stories down, though with the heightened ceilings of each floor I'm guessing it is equal to about 5 stories of a regular building. You'd be dead in a split second upon impact.

I guess my expression portrays my thoughts because Rassa chuckles "Don't worry Dicen, he can't fall. There is an invisible wall there, he'd just bounce right back." I stare at her blankly.

"An...invisible wall?" Another raw chuckle escapes her lips.

"Here, watch." She moves forward swiftly, reaches to her belt...and draws out a large glistening butchers knife...no, to sharp and angled. It's a hunters knife.

She tosses it over the rail, where it free falls only a foot before something...the air seemingly, flashes, like a disruption to a hologram and flings the knife back at us. Fry ducks out of its path with a curse. It clatters to the ground and Rassa scoops it up and shoves it back into the hidden holster on her belt. "See, cool right?" She grins at me.

"Was that wall thingy designed in District Three? I think my dads mentioned something like that before..." Fry asks, though his eyes are on the leather holder laced into her belt.

"You carry a knife with you..." It wasn't a question, more of a shaky kind of statement, she meets my gaze steadily.

"Hey, yea didn't you win with that kind of knife? I think its up on the 'wall of fame' in my dads office."

"Yes, yes...I've carried it with me ever since...well it's late, we should get to discussing training" She motions to Skader whose strained gaze is fixed on the floor.

He looks up, startled "Hmm? Oh, right right...we should, okay few things. They'll go over some rules with you guys in the introduction tomorrow, you can't fight with the other tributes...you know the usual" Fry shoots me a sideways glance, that I attempt to ignore "But I don't want you to interact with any of them at all, okay? I don't want them having any kind of pre-exposure to you."

"Meaning" Fry cuts in with a smirk "You don't want them to be pissed at us before we get in the arena, so what? We're not the first ones they go after?"

"Well with you...yes" Rassa says with a frown. "But for normal reasons, we don't want them sizing you up...if you look too good, they'll mark you as a threat then yes, go after you first but if you look weak they'll see you as a bug, easy to crush. Its best to stay off the radar."

"But, we're from District Three" I point out " not exactly known for our fighting skills, won't they kind of see us as easy targets either way?"

Skader grins "We're counting on the District stereotyping... you guys remember Beetee?" Both of us nod. Of course we remember Beetee, having such a limited amount of victors to worship every year at the Reapings, its hard to forget even one of them and Beetee I remember specifically being that he used to be one of my dad's best friends when they were younger, though they don't get to see each other much anymore, what with my dad's double shifts at the factory and Beetee's obligations to the Capitol, I'd only met him once or twice. He'd been a major surprise to just about everyone apparently, though I wasn't alive to see his games, according to my dad he'd put his extensive knowledge of wiring to use and rigged up a trap that electrocuted all the remaining tributes.

"Well, theres proof right there that you don't need to be a strong fighter to win, expertise in any area will get you far, and thats a definite advantage to you. The careers will assume you don't have any fighting or hunting knowledge, and they'll think thats all they need to know about you, so they won't bother going after you until its convenient, but if you can outsmart them..."

"Then you won't need any fighting knowledge" Rassa finishes for him with a lethal looking grin.

Fry clears his throat "Gee, so now you're saying Dicen is pretty much the only one out of us two with any chance...great."

"Fry no" Rassa begins but her gaze suddenly shifts to my side, looking past me.

"Ahem, you two should really be in bed...big things happening tomorrow" Beatilce says in a disapproving tone, reminding me of Mayla whenever she found out Dekus, Ara, and I were slipping over the boarder again, which was often.

"We're discussing training tomorrow Beatilce, and how they should conduct themselves, we're almost finished" Rassa sounds polite but theirs a spark of annoyance in her eyes towards Beatilce, who is clearly oblivious.

"Oh, thats fine, just make sure they get enough sleep, we wouldn't want them to have bags under their eyes in their first contact with the other tributes."

"Right! I can't think of anything worse..." Fry says

Beatilce purses her now silver lips and turns to leave. Rassa's gaze lands back on Fry "So as I was were saying, tomorrow I want you both to focus only on survival. You know, building fires, animal traps, finding food etc...alright? You can work on fighting later if we feel it will be" She presses her thin lips together "Favorable. And stay out of the other tributes path, don't even make eye contact."

Fry doesn't say anything so I nod in agreement "Sounds good" my voice is weary.

"Cool, cool. Now go get some sleep so you look good tomorrow" Skader says with a wink, apparently attempting to lighten the now weighted mood.

I turn to leave and see that Fry is already halfway through the door.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Trees blur around on either side of me, green and brown, until eventually they are morphed into one ugly grey strip. My boots slap across the wet soil, sending sprays of mud onto my face and eyes. The forest is becoming less and less visible. There are muffled shouts behind me, but I can't make out their words. I turn once, just my head, only for a moment. I need to see where they are. Four blazing blue, narrowed eyes meet mine, sparkling, they're laughing. Then the ground falls out from under me, and I land with a sickening crack. I'm not sure how I know for certain that the crumpled, bloody figure now lying motionless beneath me is him. Is Fry, but it is. I scream, though the sound gets lost in the rising laughter as the hunters approach. Besides, everyone may hear my cries, but no one is listening.

I bolt upright in bed and feel the thin silky material of the sheets cocooning my now drenched in sweat, legs. My eyes dart around the room while my breathing begins to slow. 'What the hell had just happened?'

I reach down and peel the sheets away from myself, before rolling off the bed and wobbling to my feet, its so hot... My eyes slowly begin to adjust to the darkness, and I can make out the shapes in the oversize room. I hadn't forgotten where I am, but for some reason the more I think about it, the heavier the weight in my chest feels. 'I need air.'

I feel my way to the door and push it open to see small lights on floor of the hall illuminating it from both sides. The large rooms I pass feel strangely empty in the dark. Finally, after what feels like a mile walk I find the doors to the balcony, the glow of the city seeps over the rail and spreads around my feet. I collapse onto a chair and suck in deep gasps of breathe before fading into another hazy dream...

"Dicen." "Dicen!" Someone shakes my arm, I groan. "blondie, blondie, blondie."

Finally with a sound of protest I open my eyes to the bright glare of the sun. Skader smiles "Good, I thought you might be dead, you really are pale aren't you" He pokes my cheek. "Its like I can see through your skin..."

"Oh goodness! There you are Dicen I was worried you had disappeared" Beatilce looks around the balcony "Well this is a...nice place to sleep isn't it? Hmm...Okay well you should really come in for breakfast so you'll have time to dress for training, I'll go wake Fry. Morning Skader" She nods to him and disappears through the doorway, Skader shoots me a lopsided grin.

"Shall we weirdo? Or do you prefer to stay out here, get some color..." I make a face and stand, wondering exactly how I got out here in the first place.

Frari and Taris are already at the table, though the clones are absent, apparently they don't actually stay here like their head stylists, but had only accompanied us for dinner last night in celebration of the chariot rides apparent success.

I sink into one of the leather encased seats across from Taris. "You look positively disheveled Dicen, did I not tell you to get as much sleep as possible? Are you trying to make my job difficult? Hmm?" He shakes his head disapprovingly, its like every time he talks, his strange capitol accent grinds into my bones.

"Sorry" I mumble, in an automatic habit to be as polite as possible, though he doesn't seem to notice...much less care.

Beatilce, Rassa and an annoyed looking Fry walk in, and much to my disappointment, as tired as Fry looks his hair is still perfectly in place and aside from the slight red circles around his eyes his face bare no signs of sleep, or lack of for that matter. I hear Ara's voice in my mind, from just about every morning when she watches him walk into class and I watch her face slack in a dreamy yearning "He just doesn't have a bad day does he? I mean look at him! Its hardly fair to be so ungodly gorgeous...while the rest of us normal people sit here sulking in our ugliness." I would always roll my eyes in response, but I'm beginning to see her point...

Once every one is settled at the table, a double set of side doors swings open and a lanky boy with golden brown hair that falls messily over his eyes enters, his gaze remains fixed on the ground as he makes his way to the table with the two large silver trays balanced on his arms. He carefully places the trays in front of us, but no one but Rassa and I seem to notice. She nods conspicuously at him, and offers a small grateful smile, he nods in return, meeting her gaze for a split second. I frown, and raise my eyebrows at her questioningly, she only shakes her head and mouthes the word 'later.'

Skader tells us a bit more about what to expect in the training room, and what we should focus on. I nod in agreement to his words, but Fry seems to be tuning him out completely, with his eyes never leaving his plate.

After we're done eating, Taris herds me back to my room, babbling about the uniform design, he dials in training uniform on the wall panel in the bathroom and out pops a black stretchy material shirt with maroon and silver stripes down the arms and a small number 3 on the shoulders and mid back, along with matching stretchy pants and leather boots. After I dress he winds my hair into a loose bun and brushes black mascara on my eyes, telling me it makes them look more intense. "Is all this really necessary?" I ask, in an uncharacteristically whiny tone.

"Of course, don't you want to make a good first impression Dicen?"

"Huh? Wait, I get that we need to make good impressions for sponsors...but the tributes? Why the hell would I want to impress people who want me dead...?"

Taris winks "They only think they'll want you dead now, but just wait until those guy tributes get a good look at how innocent and cute you are! Before you know it you'll have a line of guys willing to jump in front of an arrow for you."

I stare at him "You can't be seri..." I stop short, realizing its no good and shake my head mournfully, " Do all the stylist go through this much work for training? Or are you just super high maintenance?" I meant it as a kind of jab, but Taris smiles.

"I suppose they probably don't, but they should..." the topic drops.

I stare at the digital clock on the wall, feeling adrenaline pumping through my vanes as the numbers increase. I have to repeatedly tell myself this is only training, not the arena. 'No, not the arena...yet.'

"Alright, well I'm off. Beatilce said to meet her at the elevator at ten, so she can walk you and Fry to training. Don't be late!" Taris chirps as he sashays out the door, leaving me alone to my nerves. I collapse onto the bed with a huff and let my mind wander to my family. They'll all be up by now. Bolt and Tact sprinting to school, leaving as late as possible, Mayla on her way to meet Burnan (assuming that she's able...no of course she is) and dad having been at work for at least three hours now.

Normally I'd be at school by now, sitting with Dekus as we wait for Ara to get back from the woods, as its her day to check the traps we'd set at the cabin. Mine would be tomorrow, though I suppose under the current circumstances it with be Dekus...unless of course he had to take the day before last after the Reapings, seeing as it would have been my turn then, and Ara took yesterday...meaning Dekus would have taken today. My mind works its way through all the possibilities of their situation in a lame attempt at distracting myself from my own as sit waiting for the clock numbers to rise to ten so I can face the people that will be trying to kill me soon enough.

Ten o'clock comes too soon. I walk down to the elevators, clenching and unclenching my fists the whole way, trying to get the tingling sensation to stop, but it doesn't help much. Fry and I get there at about the same time, Beatilce smiles at us "Well don't you two look fierce today. You know I love that they've started dressing you all in matching uniforms for training, I didn't think I would...but it really has turned out well hasn't it?" She doesn't seem to be waiting for a response, so I stay silent, Fry mumbles some sort of snarky reply under his breathe but its too quiet for me to understand.

The training room itself is below ground, five stories down from our living area. We ride down in near silence, the only sound is Beatilce's fidgeting as she searches for something to say, clearly uncomfortable. I enjoy silence.

I let out a sharp burst of breathe I haven't realized I'd been holding when the elevator doors slide open, revealing a large warehouse type room with various weapon stations and what I'd guess to be obstacle courses. A large circle of tributes is beginning to form in the center of the room and I realize we're one of the last groups to show, though much to Beatilce's obvious relief not the very last, the District 11 tributes only just arrived as well. I watch as the male tributes eyes slowly scan the room, and then land on me. I chill runs down my spine and I quickly drop my gaze to my boots, feeling my cheeks blush a bright red.

Fry walks ahead of me looking tired as he joins the circle, I follow hesitantly. A tall women enters the circle then, and tells us her name is Atala. Just as Skader had said, she explains the rules first, 'no fighting other tributes, there are assisants on hand if we wish to practice' 'we are free to rome around the stations as we please' 'some stations are there to practice combative skills, where as others teach general survival skills, hunting, gathering etc.' My eyes find the general survival stations right away, remembering Skader's clear instructions to do so.

She begins going over the different stations in more detail and I begin to zone out. I'd been trying my best to ignore the group of people surrounding me, trying to blend into the scenory and escape anyones attention, just as Skader and Rassa advised us to do, but now I lift my gaze to the other tributes faces, keeping my head tilted toward the ground in case someone glances back at me.

My eyes find the District 10 girl first, a small red head whose likely no more than thirteen. She has round dark eyes and thin lips as well as a wide face and small curved nose. I can feel a frown creese my cheeks, 'how can they throw such a small, frail looking girl into and arena with...' my eyes shift over to the place where the careers are gathered, straight across from my own spot 'them, and expect it to be fair?' I scan the rest of the circle. I'm short, I've always been well aware of that, and not exactly strong considering yesterday was the first day for as long as I can remember that I've actually consumed three full 'meals,' But I've never felt inadequate because of this, not until now that is. Everyone in the room (aside from the District 10 girl, and maybe the district 8 boy) towers above me, making me feel nearly as frail as fire head looks.

'Dicen! You can win alright? You're smart! Just..." My dads last words to me ring through my head. "You're smart Dicen" I am smart when it comes to somethings, but so what? I'm smart enough to know that intellegance will get me no where against people who are not only twice my size, but know how to fight, have been doing it their whole lives. So I'm smart, but no math equation I know will save me when the careers have me pinned to the ground with a knife at my throat. Not one.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

She dismisses us from the circle and the tributes disperse to different stations, most choosing some sort of weapon station, though I notice with a flick of amusement that all the career tributes, aside from the District 4 male go straight for survival skills. They don't feel the need to practice, I suppose, they've been doing it all their lives.

I start towards the berry identification station, I guess it would be good to know which berries will poison me with a single bite and which are okay, but honestly its the first empty station I see, and that is definitely appealing at the moment.

My brothers both have photographic memories, and they constantly feel the need to remind me of this talent, however I don't. I flip through the pictures and descriptions of poisonous berries they have on a largish screen installed into the wall, wondering how anyone manages to remember any of this. Bolt and Tact would be good at it though. My heart sinks. Damn I miss them.

"Virginia Creepers" A voice rumbles from behind me "Red is dead" I stiffen, and wonder if the boy belonging to the voice is talking to me...or himself, I click to the next picture. "Bittersweet, thats an easy one...I've never trusted people, or ugh 'things' wearing hats" I frown, and turn.

"Hats?" I ask the boy, who I recognize immediately to be from District 5 with his curly auburn hair and hazel eyes. He's not tall, but he's not exactly short either maybe two or three inches taller than my 5'4, he has broad shoulders and toned arms, I'd say his family has never had a food shortage issue.

District 5 smiles and gestures to the screen "The yellow part on the berry, it looks like a hat."

I turn back to the picture and realize he's right. "Oh right, I see." I mumble and avert my gaze, mentally chastising myself for paying any attention to him. Five minutes into training and I'm already doing a crappy job following Skader's instructions 'Escape people's attention.'

I feel District 5's eyes resting on my back as I click to the next picture "Yew" He murmurs "That red is dead thing is holding up nicely, isn't it?" I shrug, not bothering to turn back to him. I feel rude, brushing him off like this, but Skader's instructions were clear, and made too much sense to ignore.

Next picture "inkberry, hmmm" District 5 drawls speculatively "blue will harm you? Thats not as catchy...but I'm sure it will work." I turn around and gesture to the screen without meeting his eyes.

"All yours" It comes out as kind of a mumble and I can see a frown form on the boys face.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you away...I just know that rhythms or sayings have always helped me remember things better, and I'm thinking these are kind of important to remember." I consider nodding and walking away without a word, wondering if him being friendly is part of some sort of plot to make me trust him in the games...so I'm a fast kill. I hesitate.

"Um, right...well, I'm Pace, you're the girl from District 3, you volunteered ummm Dacen? Deecen?"

"Dicen." I say, "And yea, I volunteered for my sister, she's pregnant" I bite my tongue, I should walk away now, but honestly I can't see what harm talking to this boy for 5 seconds would do "And yea, those rhythms are actually pretty helpful...sorry, I'm kind of out of it today."

An understanding smile lights Pace's face "Mhm, and you're probably not supposed to interact much with the other tributes much either, right? Thats fine, my mentor told me the same thing...I'm just a crappy directions follower...I should really work on that, well maybe I'll talk to you later, nice meeting you Dicen."

I duck my head self consciously "Yea, you too..." He walks away and I feel myself deflate a bit, this is such a strange scenario, being thrown into a room to be taught with the very same people you need to train to fight in the first place...If that makes any sense, its almost ironic.

I look at a few more berries and try to come up with rhythms or sayings like the ones Pace came up with, but I've never really been the creative type so after four or five more slides I give up and go to knot tying. This station is not empty, Fry balances on the back legs of a chair with his feet propped up on the table, watching an instructor bordelly as he leads him through the steps of tying a simple snare. I know some knots but not many, my dad used to hunt a little, but didn't have the time after mom died and we began relying on some wealthier family friends of ours who are big on hunting, to sell us stuff for cheap.

Fry glances up as I approach "Hey, miss me already?" I sink into the seat next to him.

"Not exactly, I was kind of hoping whatever it is you use to repel people like you do could help me if I get close enough to you...and look" I gesture towards the otherwise empty station "Its working already" The corners of his lips twitch a bit as if repressing laughter and he opens his mouth.

"The Worst lies are the ones we tell ourselves, Dicen" He breathes out with a wink.

I raise an eyebrow at him speculatively "Thats deep, but how does that relate to me?" I know, he wants me to ask, so I almost resist the question, just to bother him, but my curiosity gets the better of me.

Just as I expect he smirks, apparently pleased with himself "I mean, listen Dicen, I'm sure it must be hard having been thrown into the games to kill someone you are enormously attracted to, but denying it isn't gonna help you get over it, in fact" He leans toward me, a wicked glint in his eye that seems to changed to a silvery hazel, the closer I look at him "Sometimes it helps just to give in, if you know what I mean, then you could maybe move on."

"Give in?" I sputter a quick laugh, trying to cover the blush that undoubtedly just spread across my face. I mean, sure he's isn't wrong, I do find him attractive because he...well is, but thats not to say I'm attracted to him, just because he has nice features doesn't mean he has a redeeming personality in fact his general personality has gotten on my nerves since I'd first seen him in seventh year. Hell, even Ara who fauns over his looks every morning before class has admitted she probably wouldn't be able to stand talking to the guy for more than five minutes. "Do you hear yourself when you talk, or is your own voice kind of like a ringing in your ears?" Another jab I hadn't meant to aim at him. Honestly, I've never been the type to throw insults at people, unless you count the light natured jabs at Ara or Dekus, but something about Fry seems to bring them out, or then again, it could be our current situation. Why bother being civil to someone you will be fighting to the death against?

"All tributes to the center please." A loud demanding voice echoes through the gym, causing everyones head to whip toward them.

A short, probably around thirty year old man stands in the center, gazing out at the stations, his mouth corked in an amused smirk, his deep orange hair arranged in flame shapes down either side of his face, he's not exactly hard to recognize, the head gamemaker Hepher Claw. He'd been at the opening Ceremonies last night, hiding halfway behind President Snow as he'd been making his 'touching' speech, staring at the rows of us tributes with a mimic of Snow's hungry looking spark in his bright blue eyes. It had only added to my disgust last night, now however, with him standing so close and...real, the man basically controlling our fate from here on, I feel a spark of fear.

Everyone gathers around him in a crescent shape "Hello tributes" He announces with a beaming smile "As you all most likely know, I am Hepher Claw, the head gamemaker for the 72nd Hunger Games, and I can't even begin to express to you all, my excitement. Not only do I strongly feel, that this years arena designed by" he raises his eyes to the ceiling and his hand to his chest "Muha, is by far the most interesting and over all exciting set up of any arena thus far, I also see, just by looking at you all, that we have the most diverse and surely prepared group of tributes as well. I do hope you all enjoy the accommodations we have in place for you here in the Capitol for your stay, I know it must be an enormous and hopefully delightful change from those of which you experience in your own individual Districts" I feel vile rise to my throat "we want you all to enjoy every second you spend here, and hopefully get a view of what one of you will be given after they become victor. Now, me and a few of my associates will be walking around as you train, please ignore us and go about your usual business, we are simply here to observe for today, no scoring will be done until your private sessions near the last day of training" He pauses, apparently waiting for his words to sink in "are there any questions?" His eyes travel around the half circle of us, pausing for a moment on each person, a shiver shoots up my spine when he gets to me "No? Excellent then, well good luck and" another beaming grin "Welcome to the Capitol."

After Claw's speech I feel too nauseous to really focus any energy into training, so I spend the next few hours blindly following Fry from station to station, ignoring any taunts he shoots at me until eventually he gets the hint and ends them. No other tribute bothers to approach us, though the District 4 tributes seem to enjoy staring at us for a moment before ducking there heads together and whispering something that makes them both crack up, not unlike last night. It occurs to me that they seem to be singling out, and after a while I decide to point it out to Fry "They're watching us" I say, not meaning to make my voice as bland as it came out.

"I know." He returns simply.

"Any idea why?"

He sighs, and glances over at them "Seriously?"

I nod.

"I think its because you volunteered, and they were expecting a bit more of a...threat, than you're proving to be."

"Oh, but I didn't volunteer because..."

"I know, but they don't" He glances down at me "Ignore them, they'll get bored eventually and move on." I just nod in return.

"Gah!" a loud high pitched voice yelps out from across the room, followed by a chorus of laughter. I look over to see the District 8 girl, pressed with her back against the wall, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide with shock, her stark black hair ruffled in a swift line across the top of her head, the careers are doubled over about 20 feet away, all gathered around the knife throwing station laughing uncontrollably.

"Sorry!" The District two boy, whose name I just recently learned to be Beck, yells "I guess my aim is a bit...off" he's clearly fighting off his own bouts of hysterical laughter, and I have no doubt that whatever had just happened was on purpose and had nothing to do with his aim, which I would assume to be perfect.

The traumatized girl stares at him a few more moments before the small blonde boy from her District, the 13 year old one, moves forward, and takes her arm to lead her away slowly.

"Heh, what an asshole" Fry says, shaking his head.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

When we return to the room Skader and Rassa are standing in front of the couch, facing each other with narrowed eyes. Rassa looks cool as usual, but Skader's cheeks are flushed, as if he'd been yelling. "How could that even be considered a factor to you? Are you forgetting about blo...?" Skader cuts himself off when he notices us standing in the doorway, and tugs a painfully forced smile onto his face, "How did it go?"

Fry gasps suddenly appalled staring at Skader as if he'd just asked him to behead himself "How could you even ask that...how did it go? I mean how do you think it went!" Rassa opens her mouth as if trying to calm Fry down but he keeps going before she can get the chance "All of us...were dressed in the exact same outfits! I mean come onnn" He groans "How tacky! I mean they go through all this trouble to get stylist teams, and we end up wearing the same generic maroon crap as everyone else, wheres the individuality! Ughh, How can you not just shudder at the thought!" He sinks into the couch with a mock shudder.

I fight back a giggle, ashamed with myself for finding his joke even the slightest bit humorous under the current circumstances, Rassa and Skader however stare at him blankly as if worn out and turn to me "Blondie?"

I pinch my lips together, what am I supposed to say? It went great...I had a blast, but District 4 is out to get us just so you know...and also, I've seriously considered turning one of those practice knives on my throat, I mean, I mine as well...After seeing that, I know for a fact I have no chance no matter how many knives and cups I find in the arena to balance off each other... "The District One guy threw a knife at a girls head." I say instead with a frown "Shouldn't he be disqualified and like...shot?"

"No" Fry says, leaning back and propping his feet up on the coffee table "Because he's District One, therefore he's perfect and amazing in every way, besides...it was an accident" at that he winks and closes his eyes, throwing his arms back and behind his head carelessly.

"Wait,wait" Rassa raises her palms up and shakes her head "He actually threw a knife at a girl? What did the supervisors say?"

"Nothing"

"Course not." Skader's voice is grim "Fry's not wrong, they're not gonna punish a District One tribute for something he claims was an accident."

"Its wasn't an accident." I mumble, stating the obvious as I walk over to the couch and collapse next to Fry.

"Oh and we stayed away from the other tributes...and only went to the basic survival stations. Red is dead." All three look down at me blankly "Berries" I clarify, which doesn't seem to help their understanding.

"Um...alright, good" Skader says "So now we can work on fighting."

"Tomorrow?"

He shakes his head "No, like I said we don't want any tributes to see your, ugh...skills, or lack of, so in the training room you'll be sticking to basic survival, but you need to practice hand to hand combat, so we're going to work with you here."

"Honestly" Fry says "I think its cute how you guys act like either of us have any shot of winning. I mean, I at least have already accepted my oncoming death, can't you just let me lay back and enjoy the Capitol's glorious accommodations while I'm here?" He switches to the Capitol accent, mimicking Hepher Claw's speech.

For a moment I consider the fact that I should probably be slightly offended or at least upset by the fact that Fry included me when he said we don't have any shot at winning, but its not like I'd been thinking any more positively today, after seeing Honoria, the District One girl behead a practice dummy with one swift kick, or Velorum, the District Seven boy launch an axe straight into the center of a target from 50 feet back.

Rassa narrows her eyes at him "Get up Fry" Her voice is cool, but there's a deadly hardness to it that makes his eyes fly open and a frown form on his mouth. He opens his mouth as if to argue, but she raises her eyebrows in a blatant challenge and his lips snap shut.

Once he's standing square in front of her she raises her hands and gestures at herself "Attack me." She says bluntly.

Fry stares at her incredulously, then smirks "I mean honestly, I've felt you checking me out and its cool you're into younger guys and everything..."

"You need to learn offense and defense Fry. I don't give a shit wether or not you think you have a chance, you are not going to lie down and give up, is that clear?" Fry stares "I mean, what do you think that would say about our District?"

"Umm, that we're too smart to give the Capitol the satisfaction of actually trying in the games, and living up to their expectations?" He says it with an iron edge to his voice, directly contrasting his usual lazy drawl. Skader, Rassa, and no doubt myself look positively taken aback. Fry sighs and shakes his head "Listen, I want to live to see my 18th birthday as much as the next asshole, but its not going to happen, so why not just let me relax and pretend to make some kind of statement in the process hmmm?" He doesn't wait for the incredulous reply Rassa was likely about to spit back at him and instead saunters up the stairs and back to his room, the door closes with a startling crack.

It takes Rassa and Skader a bit to recover, but after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence Beatilce walks through the doorway clapping her hands together, utterly oblivious to the looming tension "Oh good good you're back!" she goes on to blather on and on about dinner and some very minor things that don't seem to have any relation to me or anyone else in the room and I realize she's only excited about our return more or someone to talk to than that she actually has something important to tell us so I quickly tune out.

We don't work on fighting that night. I'm not sure if its because Fry refuses, and they don't feel any real reason to teach me alone because, well, to be honest even if I did know how to fight, my size is enough of a handicap where it wouldn't make much of a difference anyway, or because Skader and Rassa realized Fry actually had a point in his speech, but either way I'm glad. I just couldn't muster the energy much less the motivation to try. So the night goes on without event.

The next morning Skader relates to us the same instructions, don't interact with anyone but each other and stick to general survival stations. Those seem to be the only tips he cares to give, which seems wrong to me, aren't mentors supposed to be full of advice on how to survive? Both him and Rassa however, do ask us about the other tributes, Fry answers but only with sarcastic mocking humor that makes Rassa's face scrunch up in annoyance, and Beatilce stare at him with an offended horror that seems to say "How would your mother feel about these remarks?" But no one actually responds. I on the other hand tell them everything I've observed, the career districts are obviously the biggest threat, The boy from district one is good with a bow, and the girl can launch a spear through a a dummy without breaking a sweat, Both the District Two tributes specialize in...just about everything, honestly I haven't seem them struggle with a damn thing, District Four however I'm not so sure about, they act arrogant and self assured enough, however, I haven't seem them doing anything particularly note worthy, they mostly stand around at the spear station smirking at the other tributes...us in particular.

When I relate this information to Skader he raises his eyebrows "Do you think they may be hanging back to hide their skills or are they trying to hide the fact that they have none...?"

I shrug, yesterday I'd been sure it was the first option, they acted far too confident to not have any kind of strategy...but after contemplating it a bit more last night I'd begun to question that. If they'd really wanted to come off as intimidating, why not show off? "You said the guy volunteered didn't you?

Skader pursed his lips thoughtfully, then frowned "Yea, he did, but the girl didn't, honestly I'd kind of pegged her as..." His voice trailed off as a glint came to his eye "You know, she didn't volunteer and she was shaky as hell when she got on stage, and the escort called the girls first...so he volunteered after she'd already been picked"

Rassa's sudden light laughter startled me a bit "Oh gosh, you know what? You should always stay cautious, and you know" She flutters her hand over her shoulder "Expect the unexpected...but if I were you I wouldn't worry too much about District Four this year."

Fry glances up from where he seemed to have been drifting off "Huh?"

"We'll talk about it later, right now you guys gotta head off." So we head to the training room.


	14. Chapter 14

Sorry, guys having trouble uploading, so I'm gonna post this short chapter just to see if its working, I'll post the second have within the next few days :)

Chapter 14

Our second day of training goes on with out any really event, Fry and I practice building fires, which comes easier than I thought it would, what with my knowledge of a sparks relation to friction, and despite my hesitation from Skader's directions, Fry convinces me to race him up the rope ladder, which is as difficult as most of the other tributes made it look yesterday and eventually both of us manage to flip it sending us falling to the floor and landing on the mat with a quick thump. Fry's easy laugh catches and we both lay there in near hysterics as the other tributes shoot us weird looks and the careers smirk at us.

We don't try again, and instead head to the station I've been looking forward to since yesterday, but have been avoiding all the same. The electronics station, in my opinion is basically a tribute to Beetee, the victor from district three that set up a trap that set off a shock wave through the arena, electrifying the other tributes. On the day of my reaping, Beetee was the first person that had popped in my head when my father had told me I was smart " Dicen, you can win alright? You're smart! Just..." Just? That was the question that has been bugging me since, just what? It was probably something simple like "Dicen...Just believe in yourself" or "Dicen...Just don't give up" but staring at the wires now I'm thinking "Dicen...Just be like Beetee" I can feel a slight comfortable smile form on my face as we slide into the seats, where different cables and conductors seem to have been thrown around at random around the table, creating a jumble that would confuse the hell out of someone who didn't deal with this stuff on a daily basis.

A young guy trainer, probably in his early twenties smiles at us, showing off two deep dimples on his cheeks "District Three, I've been expecting you" He says jokingly. Fry glances up at him and then over to me.

"Oh, right you're probably good at this crap right?"

I shrug, "my dads an engineer."

"So that would be a yes. Well I guess Skader told us not to show any strengths or anything...but I seriously doubt the other tributes will mark this as any kind of threat...even despite Beetee" He finishes, reading my mind.

"Beetee is by far my favorite tribute! I have his games recorded at home, I watch them all the time!" The trainer says excitedly "Well, anyways, you want me to show you some of the basics?" he leans in slightly and lowers his voice, as if to tell us a secret "I can show you how to make the exact conductor that Beetee took everyone out with..."

Fry blinks and looks as if he's about to shoot some sarcastic remark at the guy when I cut him off "No thanks, my dad showed me how to do that a few years ago, for fun. Do you know if they ever put any of this stuff in the arena? Or, was that kind of luck...?"

The guy purses his lips thoughtfully "They do...every once and a while, you know, if they think theres a tribute that could use it to make things a bit more exciting...but between you and me, I think they're a bit more reluctant after Beetee, I mean, he took out all the last tributes all at once, which ended the games kind of short...most Capitol people don't like it, because its not as exciting" he rolls his eyes, saying he definitely doesn't agree.

I just nod after that, feeling a bit deflated. There goes any slim shot I have at winning.

He shows us a few simple connections, and I show him some more, which he watches with wide, fascinated eyes. Somewhere in that Fry tells me he's going to go to another station that I don't catch and gets up, apparently bored.

"Huh, you know, I've always wanted to visit District Three, see all those factories, meet all the experts in engineering..." The trainer's voice trails off and I glance up from my multi-strand, searching his face for any kind of sign he's joking, but don't find any.

My immediate urge is to argue, tell him he's insane, ask him if he realizes what the working conditions in District Three are, but of course, he doesn't, he was born and raised in the privileged Capitol. I don't know what they tell the citizens here about the districts, but I doubt its any where close to the truth, judging from this guy's dream like gaze. So instead I just smile and get back to the wiring.

I'm not sure how long I've been at the station when a shadow falls over my hands, and I feel someone staring over my shoulder. I tense a bit, hoping its Fry, but when I look back, its a man, wearing a black suite with a bright orange tie, one of the game makers has broken away from the endless buffet table placed out for them, I realize. When he notices me looking at him he smiles, looking friendly enough "I'm sorry to interrupt District Three, I'm just here to observe, I've noticed you've taken a clear interest in this station" he laughs "hardly surprising though hmm?"

I don't answer, only nod and offer a tight lipped smile.

After a minute or two, he wanders away and I push off from the table, thanking the boy trainer for his help "No thank you" He responds "I'm supposed to be the expert in electronics here, and you've taught me alot. I hope there are useful supplies in the arena this year" He lowers his voice again "I'm not supposed to choose favorites or anything...but I'm rooting for you." I smile again, and walk away, 'thats just going to leave yet another disappointed person.'


	15. Chapter 14 Part 2

Good lord, so I've just realized that I haven't posted a chapter in...well, a while, which is really bad considering the last one I posted was only supposed to be the first half of 14 and I promised to have the second half up within a couple of days..what can I say I'm a bit spacey...sorry guys! Well, here it is.

So, while I'm making a notice, I just wanted to address something that I'm a bit upset about :/ I've been thinking about possibly starting a new story and discontinuing this one, because honestly as much as I really like writing this story and where I planned for it to go, I feel like I'm not getting any real kind of response...not even people telling me it sucks, which would be better than nothing (14 chapters and only 2 comments is more than embarrassing) especially sense I can see how many views each chapter gets, I guess its just not holding people's attention enough? That's fine, it's just that I feel this may be a waste of my time (I think I'll finish it for my own sake, just not post it, so I don't feel the pressure of having to update it regularly) This may or may not be the last chapter posted...:( I don't know, we'll see. Well, thanks for reading anyway!

Chapter 14 (Part 2)

That night I wake with a start, gasping and choking in breathes while at the same time violently kicking of the blankets that have someone managed to net themselves around my legs, poring a wave of claustrophobia over me. Once again I have no memory of whatever dream (or I suppose nightmare) has stricken me, but I also figure it's best that way, as I have a fairly good idea regardless.

Once I manage to escape the bind I flip out of bed landing on my knees hard, sending shocks of pain up my thighs. I only wince and struggle to my feet. The hall lights are faintly visible from underneath the door so I follow them and enter the hallway.

I don't really consider where I plan on going as I stumble along toward the living room, I just move breathing in the cool, rose scented capitol air. I enter the living room and nearly stop short, considering turning around when I see Fry sunk into the couch, his eyes glued to the window while his hand glues itself to a tall glass bottle in his lap, he takes a swish of the clear glittering liquid.

"Erm, hey." I say in a groggy voice, muffled with sleep.

Fry blinks before his eyes slowly drag over to me, one side of his mouth tugs down in a half frown."Hi." He manages to slur a two letter word.

"What are you drinking?"

He shrugs "No idea, but it has a bite, want some?"

I shake my head. "You're drunk. You know private lessons are tomorrow right? This may not be a good night to..." I cut myself off when he rolls his eyes dramatically, as if I was his mother telling him to go to bed early, "What? Your not going to be able to impress anyone if your hungover."

"Then all the best to you Bennis." He slurs, lacing his words with sarcasm "You get those mother fuckin' sponsors."

I stare at him, standing awkwardly in my too thin nightgown (pretty much the only type of sleep wear I've been provided) with my arms crossed over my chest. "Fry you know you're gonna regret this...you should go to bed."

"Why don't you worry about yourself hmm? Honestly Bennis you seem to be forgetting the fact that we're not a team..."

My lips part a bit with surprise, struck with the sudden bitterness thrown into his voice, something I have a hard time associating with Fry...but, no I haven't forgotten that, I know perfectly well that Fry and I will be expected to fight against each other in the arena, only one person can live "I know we're not a team Fry...I'm just trying to ...to help" my voice comes out a bit weak, because if I were to be honest I know I've been suppressing the issue of us having to fight against each other in the arena, It just seemed like one more thing to stress over that I didn't need. Because although I've never really liked Fry, he is from district three, and therefore apart of my life, I would never want him to die. When Beatilce had read of his name in the reaping I'd felt a genuine wave of sadness, It would be weird not seeing his lazy smirk at school everyday, or hear his aggravating arrogant comments interrupting class every five minutes, and now no matter what I really wouldn't because, it's either him or me..or the more likely option, neither of us.

"Well" He clumsily pushes himself to his feet, practically tossing the now empty bottle at the table text to him "don't, alright? From here on don't try to help me, don't talk to me, and how bout over all just stay away from me okay? I'll do the same for you." He turns to the stairs but in the darkness trips over the coffee table, barely catching himself on the side of the couch.

He's right Dicen...that will make it a lot easier, just agree and go to bed a small voice whispers from the back of my head, one that sounds suspiciously like Mayla. "I...you know what, no problem, it's not like I've been trying to make us act like a team Fry, I guess I just figured because we're from the same District we mine as well hang out together in training. Honestly, I didn't think it would cause any harm, but whatever, it's not like I give a real shit anyway." the words tumble out "You're a self centered asshole."

"Bullshit Dicen. Holy crap, how could you even..." he shakes his head harshly "Don't pretend like this isn't part of your little plan."

"Ww..plan? What?" I stare at him incredulously

"Listen I'm not planning on winning so I don't get why you'd bother trying to get me to...You know what? I don't have the energy to argue this with you, you know damn well what you've been trying to do." He gives another attempt at walking to the stairs but once again fumbles.

"You need help?" I drawl out, trying to make my voice sound amused, but fail as it shakes slightly. "Oh, no wait, you don't want me to help you...or talk to you! I guess I'll go back to bed then. Goodnight Fry." I spin on my heal and march angrily back to my room, fuming the whole way, what the hell was he talking about? Like, I could possibly summon enough energy to plot against him, let alone have any real reason to. Besides, what could I possibly benefit from talking to him...


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Morning comes much faster than I'd hoped. I stare at a small crimson stain on the carpet next to the bed as the room slowly begins filling with early morning light, revealing it's color to be more and more vibrant until it's fully shown to be a rusty looking speck of blood that the cleaning people had apparently missed. I mindlessly run my finger gently along the now scabbed over cut on my leg I'd gotten from rope burn trying to race Fry up the latter.

"Dicen? Are you up?" Beatilce chitters through the door, pulling me out of me stupor. I mumble a response and push myself out of bed.

It takes me little time to get ready, and even less time to spoon down the bits of food the dark haired boy had placed in front of me for breakfast. I resist the urge to glance at Fry across the table, but I do note his hunched over posture in the long backed chair with a half hearted smugness, confused as to why the glazed look in his eyes provokes a spark of concern in me.

"I hope you both got a good night's sleep" Beatilce tells us between spoon full's of a pink, fluffy, unknown substance in her own bowl "What happens today will be very important to potential sponsors."She smiles lightly at her bowl for a moment, before a sudden realization seems to strike and her eyes go wide "Oh but no pressure of course, I just know you both will do fantastic." I wait for a sarcastic comment or at least a snort from Fry, but he does neither. "So any whom, I presume you will want to go to the training center first and then you can come back around 2 and discuss techniques for the interview? Or would you prefer vise versa, hmm?" She smiles and pivots her glances between Rassa and Skader.

"Fry and I will go train, and you can stay here and discuss techniques" Rassa turns to Skader, who cocks and eyebrow in response"And then we'll switch, good?"

"I...Um yea alright, fair enough." Skader's eyes trail back to his plate as frown lines crease his forehead.

Rassa nods and turns to Fry, who looks as though he has begun to nod off "Fry are you ready?"

It takes him a minute to drag his slightly blood shot eyes towards her and push out of his seat. "Couldn't be readier."

Skader doesn't waist any time after the door swings shut, scraping his chair out from under the table and jumping to his feet "Alright Blondie" he slaps his palms across the sides of his pants and turns to me with a funny expression that seems to be a mixture of forced determination and genuine excitement, though at first glance it would come across more as slight insanity "shall we?"

I follow him to the main sitting room where he perches himself awkwardly on the coffee table across from the couch. When I don't immediately seat myself across from him he clears his throat impatiently and gestures to the spot. I sit.

"So...the interview."

"the interview..."

"I talked to Taris last night about it...actually, he should be here." Skader calls to Taris then with no response, stands and disappears through the dining room door to retrieve him. Once Taris is seated comfortably beside me Skader begins to explain the 'categories' in which tributes choose to present themselves in the interviews "The sponsors want entertainment value in a victor's personality, like...they want to see that if they live through the games they'll still be relevant to capitol citizens, so" He frowns and his eyes trail over me slowly "we have to make you interesting."

I stare. "Well, thanks"

Taris laughs, "Not to say you aren't super entertaining already little Dicen, it's just, we need you to be media entertaining. Trust me, there is a difference."

"Right, so like Skader? I don't have to sleep with half the Capitol population too do I...?" I feel a bit guilty the moment it slips out but Skader just laughs dryly in response shooting me a glare.

"Oh no no" Taris answers blankly, oblivious to the mocking "That wouldn't go at all with the image I've already been creating for you."

"I have an image?"

"Of course!" Taris seems annoyed that I haven't already picked up on this, "Cute little shy helpless girl from District 3" He smiles "Oh and you have to see your dress by the way, it's black going with our little yin yang thing!"

"That's great Taris, and her" He sticks up his fingers, mimicking air quotes "image is good...But I was thinking a little less helpless alright? We don't need the sponsors thinking she can't take care of herself in there..."

They rattle on this way for the next hour, giving me ideas of what Caesar's questions will mainly consist of and how to answer them properly, "Make it seem like you're opening up a little...give the citizens a feel of a personal connection...but all the same don't come off as too transparent, they're has to be a bit of mystery."

"Sounds like my sister's dating advice" I mumble, earning myself a dry laugh from Skader.

"Also, make sure you're sitting tall, and if possible spend a lot of time looking at the audience, makes you look nervous...they'll find it adorable!" Taris interjects.

I try to picture the situation, me sitting on stage next to Caesar Flickerman, trying to come off as shy...but not helpless, giving the audience insight but not being transparent, trying to be charming yet reserved...all the while, all of Panem is watching, judging, lights slamming against me from all angles. I feel a bit sick.

"This will go well Blondie" Skader assures me with a small pained smile. "Now, come with me" He shoots Taris a drawling glance, obviously discluding him "...I have to show you something."

Skader leads me to his room and closes the door immediately after I enter, then shuffles across to his bedside table and pulls a sheet out of the drawer "read this, and memorize it. And.." he presses his lips together and leans toward me slighty "don't let anyone see."

I glance down and the small white rectangle he presses into my palm, assuming he's joking until I get a good look at his grim expression "What is it?"

"You'll see, just read it tonight okay? Give it back to me in the morning." I nod and shove the paper into a small pocket on the side of my jacket.

"Now lets discuss tactics shall we? First things first, how fast are you?"

"Well, I'm not slow..." I answer.

"But not fast enough to outrun careers right?"

I frown, "do you really have to ask?"


End file.
